The Peace Offering
by Wylis
Summary: 700 years ago Prince Niall gave up his most precious possession- his mostly Human great granddaughter- to end the war between Vampires and Fairies. A/U
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hi! Trying my hand at another story, and another Alternate Universe, this time, going back to the end of the Vampire/Fairy war. This A/U follows the same rules as my last one- Sookie is still a telepath, our favorite Vampires are still Vampires, and for the purposes of this story our favorite Fairies are still Fairies._

_Since we're moving pretty far back in time- a la the 13__th__ century, I figured there were some characters whose names weren't completely appropriate, namely Claude, Claudine, and Claudette. I'm not sure if it was ever mentioned in the books that they changed their names to something more modern or pronounceable (after reading so much wonderful fanfiction some details tend to blend together). But in that vein, and because it was fun, I've taken the liberty of giving them back some beautiful and unpronounceable Celtic/Gallic names: Claude= Ceannaideach, Claudine= Ceiridwyn, and Claudette=Caronwyn. Although, except for Claude being a total douche, they don't bare much resemblance to their SVM selves, at least in the beginning! I've given Sookie a different name as well Saoirse, although as the story progresses we'll be using both names._

_As always I have to thank my beta Sheknitsnicely! Thank you for sticking with me and working on this new story with me. Your mad editing skills, your unending support, and your awesome friendship make me so glad that I started dabbling in writing! You make it all so much more fun and fulfilling!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing! But I do, very much, hope you enjoy!_

.oO~*~Oo.

1270 A.D.

The war had raged on now for a hundred and twenty years, long enough for the hotheads and idealists who had called for it to have long since perished at the end of an iron sword or a hungry pair of fangs. Long enough for the people to have grown weary from the loss of life and the loss of status, even if their leaders still refused to admit that the stench of defeat had long since tainted the air. Long enough for even a proud prince to see that pride would do naught now but carry his people to their extinction.

Niall watched with a heart heavy with grief as the body of his son, Dermot, flaked away in the early morning haze. One less prince to carry his people into the next century, one less husband to father children, one less voice to call for reason, one more dead son to his father.

Raising his head as he heard the horseman approach, Naill felt his anger rise within him as the figure of his grandson, Ceannaideach, made its way ever closer. The sun was behind Ceannaideach, obscuring his face from the Prince's gaze, but Niall did not need to see the look of triumph that painted it to know that it was there. With Fintan these fifteen years dead, and now Dermot gone as well, Ceannaideach was firmly his heir, and one step closer in his ambitious climb to the throne.

"Grandfather, I grieve with you." Niall heard the words, proper and respectful, coming from Ceannaideach's mouth. Had he not known the boy's true character, he might even have been fooled by the conviction in his tone. But knowing the blazing fire of ambition that burned within the younger man, he felt only rage that he dared to play this game with him here, now.

As Ceannaideach dismounted, he tried mightily to keep the smile from his face. The half breed was dead. Could he, he would personally thank the vampire that had done him this service, this day. But instead, he schooled his features, painting the mask of grief over the joy that swelled in his heart, attempting to look as though his only concern was for his grandfather's wellbeing.

"Lidan is here, with Breadan and Coleman. He requests your presence at once. He awaits you in your tent." Niall only nodded in acknowledgement , rising from the ground and turning towards the tent in the distance to meet his King.

"No, you stay here. I will meet with them alone." Niall barked when he saw the younger man preparing to join him. His heir the boy might be, but he would not, this day, suffer his greedy power mongering in front of the High King. Dealing with Breandan and Coleman without losing his temper would be enough of a strain on his already burdened heart. Taking the horse and leaving Ceannaideach to find his own way back, he turned away with one last pang of sorrow from the body of his son and made towards the encampment where the remainder of his army rested, now that the sun had blessedly come up, ceasing the battle for at least the next few hours.

Dismounting at the flap of his tent, Niall called out to his lieutenant, Rival. Rival came at a run to his master, concern evident as he looked in the billowing tent door and saw who awaited his master there.

"My lord." He acknowledged, bowing low. Niall only waved his hand dismissively, allowing Rival to return to an upright position.

"Take a detachment and search the ground in and around the battlefield." Rival nodded his head, already familiar, after so many decades of war, with the ritual of "cleaning up". He and his men would search, as they always did, for any who had been foolish enough to go to ground in and around the battlefield, dispatching that many more of the enemy before they rose. Taking one last long look inside the tent, Rival went to his task, leaving Niall to enter the lion's den.

"My Lord." This time it was Niall who bent low, making the proper obeisance to his King.

"Niall, sit" Lidan commanded, without further ado. Looking around at the King and his two other lieutenants, Niall took the nearest place, thankful that it put him closer to Coleman. To even sit in the same room with Breandan was enough to prick at his honor. Especially on this day, when he had lost yet another son, the sight of the other Fairy made his rage rise up almost uncontrollably. Stifling the blood lust that he knew would do him no good, he turned to his Majesty, ready to hear what had brought him and his other lieutenants to Niall's door this wretched morning.

"I have heard each of you." Lidan began, his voice grave. "After seeing the carnage for myself, I cannot continue to ignore Niall's warning. Today alone we have lost another two hundred. If this were a singular event or only a bad battle I would continue on in the path we have chosen, but it is not. The people cry out for an end to the suffering, an end to the death, and I can no longer turn a blind eye." Niall held his peace, but the King's words only served to anger him more. Indeed, now that it looked as though the people might turn on their King, forcing him and his accursed war out of both realms, now at last was he ready to listen to words of sense. Now, only after the war had been lost a hundred times over, was he willing to admit his error. Now, when the Fae were weakened to the point that centuries would be needed for them to recover, was Lidan realizing the colossal waste that it all had been. Only now was he finally willing to stop being goaded by Breandan's constant, greed filled whisperings, and actually see for himself all that had been lost. Only now, when it was almost too late.

"My Lord, No…!" Breandan began, all too predictably. But this time Lidan, as he should have done a hundred times before, held up his hand, silencing his most favored lieutenant.

"We must make peace. There is no longer any other way." Breandan's anger was visible, as were Niall's relief and Coleman's neutrality. "Coleman," Lidan said, getting the attention of his most apathetic commander, "you will travel to Anotonius of Rome. Brendan, you to Sa'ida of Castile. And you, Niall, to Halbjorn in Upsala. Make the peace, whatever you must concede, as long as our people remain free and continue to have access to this realm. Those are my only stipulations. I have sent messengers on ahead already. Therefore go, each of you, to your homes and prepare yourselves for what must be done." With that, Lidan was out of his chair and the tent, re-calling the men he had brought with him, preparing to depart for the portal and the safety of Faery.

The three lieutenants he left behind, sat in stunned silence for a beat. It only took another moment before Breandan was up from his seat, knocking it over and stalking out of the tent, his rage already being taken out on his own men as they prepared to return to their stronghold in Europe.

"If you have no objections, my Prince, I will return with you to your home. It has been some months since I have been able to see Ceiridwyn, and I would like the opportunity to visit with her before leaving for Rome." Niall nodded his head, rising from his chair, somewhat dazed from the abrupt about face of his King.

"Yes, come. I am sure she is anxious to see you as well. I will leave Callum with instructions and then we will go." An hour later, having given his own commanders their orders, Niall again found Coleman and prepared to return home.

"Do we not wait for Ceannaideach?" Coleman asked, confusion evident on his face. Niall felt his features darken perceptibly for the hundredth time in this already endless morning.

"The boy has magic enough to get himself home if he so desires. For myself, I care not whether he returns home or stays and fights." With that, Niall enveloped Coleman in his magic and the two made the instantaneous journey from the ragged hell of the battlefield, somewhere in the borderland between England and Scotland, back to the lush, verdant hills of his home on his beloved island of Ireland.

Re-forming in the village at the base of his stronghold, Niall heard the first hearty exclamations of joy as his people realized he was home once more, Fairy and Human alike leaving their duties, if only for a short while, to greet their Prince. Niall worked his way through the crowd, Coleman in tow, making the journey up to the castle on foot, receiving and returning greetings as they went. Ireland was a special place for Niall, one that he knew would remain in his heart even when he returned to the beauty and safety of Faery. It was one of the few places in this day and age where the old ways still prevailed, and where his people could walk freely among the Humans without needing to keep their existence hidden. The Humans here were their willing servants, still bowing in awe to what they perceived, correctly, as a great and magical race, one which ought to rule this realm as they did their own.

Within minutes, the castle walls themselves were vibrating with excitement, one and all dropping their mundane tasks to make sure that the Prince's unexpected arrival was given its proper due. It was at that moment that Amena burst through the doors to the Princess's chamber, her round face as red as her hair.

"My lady, he's here! Your great grandfather has come home! Why are you sitting there like a stump on a log? Get up!" Saoirse only smiled as she turned around, acknowledging her nursemaid's presence. Indeed, his Highness was home and no one had probably been as aware of that as she, who could "hear" as well as hear the commotion going through the halls.

"I'm well aware, Amena. Will you help me change? I've pulled everything out already." Saoirse asked, her voice far too subdued for Amena's taste. Yet, looking over the girl, she couldn't help but agree that changing the simple, almost shabby, woolen dress was the first order of business.

As Amena helped her into her nicest gown, Saoirse tried to remain calm. She had always been very good about keeping her face neutral, but it was hard to do so when she thought of having to be in the same room as the rest of her Fairy kin. She loved her great grandfather dearly and longed for the moment when they could be alone together and she could let herself simply be in his easy and accepting presence, but she dreaded having to present herself formally in front of the others. She had never told Niall about the way things were when he was not at home, fearing that, in his anger, he would punish the others, only making things that much worse when he again left. So she knew that he would dote and faun on her as he always did, and that it would only serve to increase the ire of her kinsfolk.

"Tonight it will not be possible," Saoirse began," but perhaps tomorrow I will go down to the beach for a bit. I am sure his Highness cannot stay for long." Saoirse did not need to see Amena's expression behind her to know that the nursemaid was displeased by her statement. She could hear Amena's disproval loudly and clearly. Still, it had been days since she'd been able to escape to the solitude of the shore and she felt, now more than ever, that she would need the peace it provided. When Niall left again, as he inevitably must , her Fairy kin would redouble their cruelty.

An hour later, Saoirse found herself entering the audience chamber, Amena just behind her. She tried with all her might to ignore the silence that descended on the assemblage and the disapproving looks that were sent her way, looks that ranged from simple indifference to outright hostility. She could see Ceiridwyn and Caronwyn, in particular, openly sneering at her dress, and it caused a shiver to run down her spine as she remembered the many times they had torn or destroyed her clothing in the past, jealous that Niall chose to give such finery to a half breed.

But before a word could be uttered, the doors swung open once more and Saoirse was forgotten as the Prince entered and all rushed to greet him. Saoirse watched as first the male members of her family came, one and all, to bow before their Prince and patriarch and welcome him home, and then the female members. She watched with just a touch of jealousy as Ceiridwyn came forward and greeted Niall and was then turned over to Coleman, her betrothed, so that they might sweetly become reacquainted. It was not jealousy over Coleman himself that sparked within Saoirse at that moment, but a general heartache that it would probably never be her making her grandfather happy through a marriage alliance, or greeting the man that would soon be her husband.

Saoirse knew only too well that, though her grandfather loved her greatly, he was also often blinded by that love. He would never find a full Fairy willing to mate with her, but neither would he accept the truth of her mostly Human nature and allow her to find a husband among men. He considered her a Princess of his house and, as a Princess, she must marry a Fairy Prince, regardless of the fact that none would touch her.

Saoirse's musings were cut short when the crowd surrounding Niall parted and she beheld her great grandfather, his arms open, calling her name. All eyes were on them as she walked forward and into his embrace and the minds in the room, though she could not fully read them, spoke volumes of their displeasure at her reception. Niall embraced her heartily and laid enthusiastic kisses on her forehead, eyes and cheeks, before he dismissed all and took her by the arm, leading her back to his personal chambers.

As they left the audience chamber behind, Saoirse tried to swallow back the wave of hatred that hit her from behind and concentrate only on the joy that having her great grandfather all to herself always brought her. They were in his apartments only long enough for him to stoke the fire, before he sat in the great comfortable chair before it and beckoned her to come to him. Smiling with her joy, she did just that, sitting at his feet and laying her head on his knee.

"How has it been with you child?" Niall asked, his hand coming down gently to pet her hair. Saoirse reveled in his touch and allowed herself to truly relax here, in the confines of the castle, for the first time in months.

"I am well, grandfather. Life here has been quiet, as it usually is. How has it been with you? We were not expecting you back so soon." Niall felt the frown that seemed to be eternally etched just under the surface of his skin return. With others he blustered, with others he lied, with others he faithfully showed his fealty to his King by repeating the tired phrases of imminent victory. But with Saoirse he was honest. Young and mostly human she might be, sweet and filled with light and life she might be, but she was not stupid; he had not raised her to be. He knew that only this fragile, sweet and innocent girl, who had been the light of his life for fifteen years, could bring him peace after the tumultuous events of the day.

"Dermot is dead. Ceannaideach feels himself one step closer to becoming the next High King and Lidan suddenly desires that I make peace at almost any price. It has not been well." Saoirse pulled away from her grandfather's knee, surprise, grief and shock all warring for dominance on her face. She did not know how to feel about her uncle's death. Of all her kinsman he, more than any of the others, should have been kind to her, understanding of her, but he had always been the most unkind, as though mistreatment of her somehow absolved him of his own human blood. Yet, she had never wished him or anyone dead. News that Ceannaideach was now Niall's heir only caused the bile to rise up into her throat. He and his sisters had been her most ardent tormentors and, now that his station had risen, he would no doubt be making plans to torment her further when Niall was gone. As for the peace, Saoirse had no idea how to feel about that. An end to the death and sorrow that she had grown up surrounded by could only be welcome, but at what price? If, as Niall said, Lidan had realized he had almost no bargaining power, then their enemies might demand anything of them.

"Peace child, all will be well. I have come to rest a bit before I travel to Halbjorn." Saoirse shivered when she heard the Vampire High King's name spoken. Of the three High Monarchs the Vampires had chosen to lead them during their war with her people, Halbjorn was by far the most respected, the most ferocious and the most feared. The terror he inspired in her people had led him to become something of a nightmare figure. She had even heard, a time or two, parents threatening their little ones with abduction by the terrifying Vampire King as a means to gain good behavior. Her own fear began to ratchet up when she thought of Niall traveling to meet with him. Feeling her panic rise, Saoirse rose slightly to her knees, flinging herself into her grandfather's arms.

"Please be careful!" She said, the dam of her emotions breaking and her tears flowing freely. Niall gathered his most precious child into his arms and held her tightly, soothing her with soft, wordless noises and stroking her hair as it fell in golden rivers down her back. He had not held her like this for a long time, not since that first horrible day when he had found her, dirty and frightened, hiding in the tall grass behind the burnt out farmhouses, and he felt himself overwhelmed that she seemed just as frightened now, at the prospect of losing him, as she had been on that day when she had lost everything she had ever known.

Saoirse felt his arms holding her tightly, felt his comfort, both physical and mental, and tried not to think about the possible outcomes of his journey to Upsala. As long as he returned to her safely, she would ask for no more. Her people had fought and lost and they would now have to endure the price of that failure. As long as her grandfather lived, she would accept whatever happened next.

They stayed many hours closeted together, making up for the hundreds of lost days of companionship that the war required of them, until finally Niall knew that they must make their way to the main hall for dinner. When they entered, all were already waiting, and a cheer went up again for the returned Prince.

Saoirse tried all night, for Niall's sake, to smile and to be merry, but she could see the looks the others gave her as Niall insisted that she sit beside him, to his right, in the honored place that was always hers when he was home, making conversation almost exclusively with her and sparing only a moment or two of his time to honor Coleman, as his guest, and talk more about the upcoming wedding.

When it was all finally over, Saoirse returned to her rooms and, after having Amena fuss over putting her dress safely away and brushing her hair, she looked out into the night sky through her window and could just make out the small shadow on the beach that was the little abandoned cottage that she had made her own, many years ago. She longed to be there now, despite her happiness at Niall being home. She longed for the silence and the sound of the waves and the freedom that it gave her, and wished that she might one day perhaps even venture into that sea and be surrounded by nothing but the deep silence of the water.

Turning and climbing into bed, she concentrated on the gentle sounds of the water and used it, just as Niall had taught her so many years ago, to block out the louder, more pressing sounds of the thoughts and feelings surrounding her. As the waves worked their magic on her mind, Saoirse had one last longing thought; the memory of Coleman and Ceiridwyn smiling at each other- and the longing deep within her own heart that had accompanied it.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I just wanted to start off by saying a HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed my first chapter, put the story on alert and in their favorites. I was completely blown away and I truly hope the second chapter lives up._

_Before anything else I also have to thank my beta Sheknitsnicely, who pulled out the final edit on this chapter after a crazy weekend! You are the best, I LOVE YOU!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…. _

Niall stayed for almost a fortnight and each day Saoirse spent every possible moment with him, but eventually the word came from the King that Niall must travel to meet Halbjorn. Saoirse's only thanks were for the fact that Lidan had arranged for them to meet on the neutral ground of Scotland, instead of making her grandfather travel into Sweden and Halbjorn's stronghold at Upsala. The thought of her grandfather and just a handful of his men entering a veritable City of Vampires terrified her. They would, no doubt, kill Niall and his men for fun, even though Niall's magic could be used to mask all of their scents.

After their tearful farewells, Saoirse had run to her room, intent on being alone with her worry and her grief, but it was no use. Her fear for her grandfather's safety had made concentrating enough to block out the voices of the others impossible. Their thoughts and feelings and, after a time, their dreams had invaded her and she'd felt herself losing control, drowning in a sea of noise so great that it caused her head to ache and her eyes to bulge out of her skull.

Finally after endless hours of painful struggle, Saoirse had risen from the bed and, without a word to Amena, thrown a simple woolen gown over her shift and a warm cloak over that, hurrying out of the castle through the kitchen. This early, there were few people around and those that saw her saw only a cloaked figure in a shabby dress and never questioned but that she must be one of the lowest of servants, gone to fetch something for another.

Saoirse hurried, using her power to scan the area around her, making certain that she wasn't being followed, until she was more than half way to the shore. Only then did she slow her steps and allow the quiet of the still dark, early morning to embrace her senses, freeing her of the encroaching, unbearable thoughts of others an d letting her concentrate on her own worries.

Saoirse made the rest of the journey down to the beach slowly, savoring the smell of the water and enjoying the vivid colors of the dawn that were just beginning to light the sky. She had almost made it to the small cottage, which she had discovered five years ago and claimed as her own private place, when she saw a movement in the shadows, near the other end of the beach. Niall might have kept her safely in innocence for the last fifteen years, but she still remembered the defining moment of her young life well enough to be frightened of strange things lurking in the shadows. That horrible day, years ago, still figured in her nightmares and the pain of remembering all those she'd lost - her Grandfather Fintan, her grandmother, her mother and father and brother, her aunt and uncle and cousins- was still etched on her heart, even though the clarity of their faces had long ago faded from her memory.

Casting her mental net out, like a fisherman would in these very waters, she tried to hear what was in front of her but came up with…nothing. At first she thought perhaps she had done something wrong, though she had never had to try to hear the voices that filled her head; quite the opposite, as all her strength had always been focused on keeping them out. Still she tried again, and again came up with…nothing. And the nothing, especially after the emotional upheaval of the previous hours, and the toll it had taken on her shields, was exquisite. She felt some inexorable pull towards the nothing in those shadows, some deep-seated need to know what it was. She felt something more than curiosity, more than mere interest, at the thing that had broken the monotony, in even this small way, of her normal life. It was something soul deep that called her to that ever shrinking patch of shade and its promise of utter and complete, total and blissful silence.

Saoirse approached slowly, thankful that the soft sand and the crashing of the waves rendered her steps almost soundless. Creeping closer, she was finally able to make out the outline of the thing that produced the blessed silence, even more alluring and calming than the crashing waves that she had always concentrated on to help her push the other sounds away.

Saoirse gasped audibly when she was finally close enough to discern more than the outline of the thing. It was not a thing at all, but a man. No, not a man; men had thoughts she could hear, thoughts that sometimes, as this morning, she still couldn't block away. This could not be a man, but it was a male. Even in his condition, he was the most beautiful male she had ever seen, with long hair the same golden shade as her own and eyes the same color as the ocean in front of them. The features of his face were strong, masculine and powerful, yet beautiful was the only word that she could think of to describe the combination of them and its effect on her.

He was clearly injured, his beautiful sea-colored eyes expressing great pain as they began to close, his skin an ashen gray color. He was half buried in the sand but looked as though he had passed out just moments ago, as she stood here watching him, from the effort. Why would he bury himself? Saoirse looked at the beach surrounding them and could see no one from whom he could be hiding himself; her mind told her as well that, other than the two of them, there was no one even remotely near. Why attempt to bury himself?

The answer came to her in a whoosh that made her ears pop and stars swim before her eyes. The only thing he could be hiding himself from, in this rapidly shrinking shadow on the sand, was the sun. Saoirse didn't know if she should run screaming or not at the realization that there was a Vampire on the island, and that she was standing right in front of him. But just as she was about to turn and flee, the Vampire roused himself from his stupor to look her square in the eye, his own desperately making a plea.

"Please, help…." He said weakly before seeming to expire again. Saoirse didn't even hesitate, though later, when she thought about the whole thing, she would not have been able to say why. Making a lightning fast decision, she bent down in the sand and began to dig the creature's lower body out. When his form was free of the silt, she sighed with relief, seeing his long, thick leather pants and sturdy boots. Hoping that they would give his lower body enough protection, she took off her cloak, wrapping it around his head and shoulders, and then began to drag him across the beach to the cottage.

By the time she made it to the cottage the sun was fully up, lighting the sky, but the Vampire was thankfully not badly burned. Only his hands, which she had had to keep free of the cloak in order to drag him, had taken any real damage.

Working quickly Saoirse laid him in the center of the little dirt floor and lifted the cloak off of him, tearing it in two and tucking it securely over the two small windows to block out the sun. The only light in the room now was flowing in from the open door, but it did not reach him as she worked. When the windows were blocked, Saoirse grabbed the blanket off the little pallet in the corner and covered the Vampire. Now that she saw all of him, she marveled at his size. He was a giant, taller than any other man that she had ever met, taller even than her Fairy kin, who towered over her mostly human form. The tiny blanket, which would have enveloped her perfectly, was not long enough to cover all of him and so she put it over his head and made sure that his injured hands where covered. Just before pulling the blanket up over his face, she looked at him for one long, last moment.

She didn't know how she knew, since he was the first Vampire she had ever seen, but she was positive that he was sick. She did not know with what, or how it had come to pass, she could not even conceive of how he had come to be on the island. Ireland was a stronghold of her Fae kin and it was suicide for a Vampire to venture here, yet she knew that he was sick and something within her called to her to help him. Such beauty, she reasoned with a small laugh, could not be allowed to disappear from the earth.

Saoirse knew she could not stay for much longer before she was missed, by Amena at the least, and so she finished covering the Vampire and did her best to make sure the door to the cottage was securely closed behind her, before hurrying back to the castle. She would find a way to get back before sundown.

Saoirse returned to the palace, quickly entering though the kitchen and hurrying up to her rooms without passing anyone of note. But when she entered, she saw that Amena was already red in the face, her skin rapidly taking on the same hue as her hair; a sure sign that she was feeling put upon.

"You've been down to the beach by the look of you." Amena grumbled, taking in her charge's dirty, sand-covered feet and the filthy, equally sand-covered hem of her dress. Crossing her arms under her heavy breasts and tapping her slipper shod foot on the flagstones, sending tufts of rushing flying around it, she attempted to find the patience to deal with it all. That Saoirse would insist she launder the hideous rag that was not fit for even the meanest servant in the castle to wear, was only the insult to the injury of having her charge running about like a peasant where anyone might see her. Saoirse only smiled indulgently at her nursemaid.

"I'm back in plenty of time, no one has to know." She replied reasonably. Amena grimaced and let out her most put upon sigh.

"Very well, come and have breakfast." She commanded. Saoirse smiled, but this time the smile was a grateful one. Amena had, long ago, taken to making sure that the cook put aside a small breakfast for her so that she would not have to have her morning meal with her kin in the main hall. She would still have to have dinner with them, but every moment that she did not have to be with them was a moment to be thankful for, especially after having provided them with two weeks' worth of ammunition for their hatred and jealousy. Coming over to kiss Amena lightly on the cheek, Saoirse looked deep into her eyes.

"Thank you," she said with sincerity.

The day dragged on at an endless pace, the sun seeming to move back towards the east every time Saoirse looked at it. Finally, when Saoirse thought she could stand the waiting no longer, she saw the sun finally beginning to hang low in the sky. It was just an hour before sunset when she again donned a ratty cloak and hurried down to the kitchen . She was just about to exit the door when one of the stable boys, entering through the same door, bumped into her and knocked the hood of her cloak off. She heard the gasp of the head cook, who was overseeing the preparation of several lambs for dinner, and the accompanying thoughts of confusion and panic.

Saoirse turned quickly, pulling the hood back over her long hair. Checking to make sure that no one else had seen her face, she hurried over to the cook. The old woman attempted to curtsey to her, but Saoirse put out both of her hands, grasping her shoulders and hauling her back up.

"Please don't tell. Please!" Saoirse whispered, her eyes, still visible under her hood, pleading with the woman for understanding. The cook still looked shocked by seeing a Princess dressed in rags in her kitchen, but she nodded her head. Saoirse could hear plainly in her thoughts that she, like many of the other human servants, held her in some esteem, believing her, as part human herself, to be more their Princess than any of the others they served. "Thank you." Saoirse intoned with deep sincerity for the second time today, laying a gentle kiss on the woman's cheek and preparing to rush out the door before anything else could happen.

"Your Highness, wait!" The cook called after her. Saoirse turned, worried that perhaps the woman had changed her mind and would try to keep her from going, but when the cook approached her she saw that there was a small parcel in her hand. The cook handed it to her, a bundle wrapped in cheese cloth. "If you leave now you'll miss dinner." She said quietly. Saoirse only smiled wider, squeezed her hand and turned to hurry.

Saoirse ran the entire way to the cottage, her heart pounding by the time she got there. When she opened the door she was relieved to find that everything was as she had left it. The pieces of her cloak that she had tucked into the window still held firmly and the blanket still covered the man underneath.

Quickly lighting the logs she had left in the hearth the last time she was here, Saoirse closed the door and gently pulled back the blanket to reveal the Vampire underneath. He was still dead for the day, but she was pleased to see that his hands had somewhat healed as he'd lain here in the darkness. As for the rest of him though, she could see that he was still an unhealthy color, though she didn't know why. Again she studied him, unsure why she had done this thing that she had done. It was true that he needed help, and she had never been a person to ignore the needs of others, yet he was a Vampire, a sworn enemy to her and all her kin. Even the inviting silence that had drawn her to him and the beauty of his form could not justify the mercy she had shown him. If her kin found him here, found that she had a saved him, she would more than likely be dead along with him before Niall could lift a finger to stop them.

Yet, even after the hours that she had had to think over her decision, the endless hours she'd spent willing the sun to finally sink in the sky, she knew that she would not have done differently. Something about this man before her called to her, and she had to know why. The sun was just setting below the horizon when she felt the first stirrings from the Vampire. His skin seemed to take on a faint glow in the firelight and his mouth opened on a groan.

When he opened his eyes, he did not know where he was. The last thing he remembered was trying desperately to bury himself in the sand on the beach, frantically attempting to hide from the sun and failing in his weakened state. Yet now, here he was lying on a floor before a warm fire. The thirst burning his throat was a desperate need within him, yet his body was too weakened to even rise to sit, no less to hunt.

"You're alive." He heard a voice as soft as the shimmering of the stars speak to him. Making a great effort, he turned his head and beheld a goddess. He had never seen one before, but he could find no on other word in any language he knew to describe what this creature must be. She was exquisite, with long golden hair cascading down her back, the ends pooling on the floor as she sat next to him, and a sweetly curvaceous form that even the rag she wore could not hide. But what convinced him of her divine status was not her pretty hair nor desirable figure; it was her eyes, huge and blue like an Aster blossom, and filled with the most compassionate concern. He had not seen any human, male or female, grown or child, look at him with such eyes since his human life, perhaps not since his mother.

"Not for almost three hundred years." He replied slowly, his mouth working hard to form the words. She looked at him with a puzzled expression for all of a second and then burst out laughing, seeming to have gotten his joke. The sound was ethereal and he wished to hear it again. It even distracted him, somewhat, from the burning in his throat. "Where am I?" He asked, with what little of his strength he had left. The girl's laughter had been beautiful and distracting, but when it stopped, something else had hit him; the scent of Fairy. It was all over her, though with what little of his sanity was still with him at this point, he could discern that it was not actually coming from her. Her own scent was there, just underneath it, and that was just as lovely but not nearly as mind drugging. He saw the girl's lips begin to move in answer and tried as hard as he could in his weakened, starving state to hear and understand her.

"You're in a small cottage on the beach. I found you trying to bury yourself in the sand this morning and brought you here. You're safe. No one knows about this place or that you're here. What is wrong with you?" He looked at her and, though he was very weak and very injured, he somehow felt that he could trust her and so, with a great deal of effort, he lifted his hand and pulled back the collar of his shirt, baring his chest to her and the large chunk of his missing flesh.

"Fairies, with silver tipped teeth. I was attacked by them." The girl gasped when she saw the large piece of him that was missing. She reached out almost as though she would touch it, but then pulled her hand away.

"Silver poisoning." She said in a whisper. He only nodded, laying his hand back down and attempting to stay still, to conserve energy. "How can I help you?" She asked. If he had been his normal self, he would have laughed at the idea that this fragile little creature could help him, he who could crush her with the slightest flick of his finger, but he was not his normal self and, if he did not get blood soon, he would surely meet his final death.

"Blood." He said. "You must let out some of the poisoned blood and then I must have fresh." The words were exhausting and so he let himself drift off, somehow knowing that she would not harm him. A few moments or a few hours later, he roused again to feel a sharp pain at his elbow. Turning his head, he saw his goddess with a knife in her hand. He stared at her quizzically for a moment before realizing that she had cut his skin, letting off some of the bad blood into a bowl. When the wound closed, much more slowly than it had done at any other time in his existence as a Vampire, he saw the girl throw the blood on the fire.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, but there was no other way." She said, by way of explanation. Holding out her wrist she motioned for him to put it in his mouth. "I don't have anyone else, you'll have to drink me." For a moment he just stared, his gaze going back and forth from her wrist to her deep, innocent eyes. Why was she doing this? Why had she not simply left him to his fate on the beach, or staked him when she had the chance? In almost three hundred years, no one had shown him such kindness. When he had been released from his maker, a century and a half ago, he had thought that kindness, compassion and common decency were things dead to him and dead inside him. He had been a warrior in life as well and not overly accustomed to them, but whatever had been left in him had been beaten, bludgeoned and raped out of him repeatedly by his sadistic creator.

And yet here was this stranger, this innocent, wide-eyed child, staring down at him with such care. Offering herself to help him, with seemingly no desire for anything in return. To have found her at all seemed a miracle to him, but to have found her on an island crawling with his enemies was even more shocking. The girl made one more motion with her wrist to encourage him and his will power could hold out no longer. His fangs came snicking down automatically and he bit into the tender flesh.

Saoirse cried out in shock at the pain of his bite, but made no other move. Instead, after a moment, she felt herself falling into the feeling of his mouth on her wrist. After the initial pain there was no more. It began to feel oddly pleasant. His mouth caressed her skin, more like a kiss than a bite, and the feeling of his tongue sweeping up her blood as it poured out of her vein sent chills down her stomach to the juncture between her legs. It shocked her to feel such a thing, yet she did not want it to stop. Eventually though, she began to worry that he was taking too much and she pulled her wrist reluctantly away.

"I am sorry, I could not stop myself, you are lucky that I am so weak." He said, his voice sounding just a little bit stronger.

"I am sorry I do not have more to give you, but I think I should probably keep some for myself." She laughed quietly. Again, the sound struck him to his very heart. Not for the first time since he woke, he wondered if all this were a dream. He had been sent here to kill a Prince but instead found himself in the care of a goddess. Nothing that had happened in the last two hundred and seventy years could have prepared him for it.

"I am Eric." He said, again not knowing what prompted him to give his real name. The girl looked momentarily indecisive, but then nodded, as if making up her mind.

"My name is Sookie." She didn't know what had prompted her to give him the childhood nickname that only her human family and her grandfather Fintan had called her, but somehow it felt right that he should use such a special name, one that she had been forced to abandon, along with the other semblances of her human life. Perhaps it was because he was the first real choice she had ever made; it seemed fitting that she should also choose to give him the secret name that she held so close to her heart.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: So here is chapter three. I can't thank everyone who reviewed the story, put it in their favorites, and on alert enough. I really hope this next chapter lives up. Just as a reminder, since they're in this one, Claudine= Ceiridwyn and Claudette= Caronwyn._

_You know I have to thank my beta Sheknitsnicely cause she so unbelievably awesome! You have no idea what this chapter looked like before she saved it! I love you so much! You're the best!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…._

Scotland- the Forests between Perth and Sterling

The clearing had been lit with torches, twenty in a circular fashion surrounding a long table and two gilded chairs. As Halbjorn sat, his lieutenants behind him and his army waiting at the tree line, he marveled at the Fairy Prince across from him. How was it that he still lived? He should have been dead days ago by the iron knives of the Vampires he'd sent to kill him. Halbjorn pushed those worrisome thoughts from his mind and concentrated on the task ahead.

The Fae desired peace. The word nearly stuck in this throat but, after over a century at war, even Halbjorn felt that a rest might be due. Of course, a rest is all it would be. Truly, lasting peace between the Fae and the Vampires was an impossibility in his mind. The races were so completely opposed to one another that only the eventual annihilation of one or the other would ever bring about a final end to the hostility between them. Halbjorn was willing to wait though. The Human world was changing and, as it did, it became more and more intolerant of the presence of Supernatural beings. The Fae would no longer be able to live in the open, to come and go as they pleased between this realm and their own and, with the severe losses to their numbers that this war had inflicted, it was only a matter of time before they faded from memory, just as his gods had when the white Christ appeared.

If the Fae wanted peace, he would let them have it. After all, their complete and total extinction would be a waste. Such delectable creatures, he preferred them weak, yet living, to completely gone. And if this war continued, he would have no choice but to bring them to the end of their days. This way was far better, and he would so enjoy wringing every possible concession from Niall in the coming hours, making him pay dearly for ever having attempted to take this realm. He would teach these prideful creatures their place.

Niall watched Halbjorn assessing him. The Vampire's ice blue eyes were vicious and cold, a testament to the life that no longer resided there. Yet, though he knew that he came to this table a beggar before a ruthless lord, he forged ahead in trying to bring about a peace that he could bring back to his people with his head held high. It would not be easy. Halbjorn would demand much, and Niall knew he had little choice but to concede.

The Fae would release their prisoners and return them safely. All hunting, on both sides, would cease immediately. They would pay fealty to Halbjorn for two centuries, and give up all claim to rule this realm. In return though, they would be allowed to keep Ireland and to pass freely from their realm into this one. It was less than he wanted, but more than he could have hoped for in the end.

As Niall and Halbjorn waited for their scribes to finish comparing their individual versions of the treaty, Halbjorn played his final card. He had been generous, overall, with the Fae and now he wanted to have one last little bit of fun. Playing with a Fairy was always so enjoyable, even if one did not get to eat them at the end of the game.

"And so now we are enemies no longer, Prince." Halbjorn watched as Niall inclined his head. This one in particular was no fool. It made taking from him all the more enjoyable. "Then should we not find a way to celebrate such a momentous event?" The Vampire King could almost see the trepidation rise in Niall's eyes. Yes, this might be the most entertaining part of the night.

"Indeed, we are enemies no longer." The Prince's cautious answer would do him no good and he already knew it.

"It was the custom of my Human people to celebrate the end of aggressions with a marriage. Those asking for peace were always the providers of a bride." Halbjorn felt his fangs snick down as he said this last. He might not be able to hunt Fairies for a while, but it would be less of a burden if he could have one constantly at his disposal.

Niall felt his anger rise. He understood, without having to be told, what it was that Halbjorn really wanted. A Fairy on tap, and not just any Fairy, but one of their females, a Royal female. One less female to mother young and one more insult to the Fae race and to his house. Before he could rise out of his seat and destroy any chance of peace, he felt Rival's hands on his shoulder. Rival and Callum stood just behind him along with Ceannaideach, his representatives and aides to the negation. And even though his lieutenant had acted out of turn, Niall could only be grateful that Rival was stopping him from destroying everything with one well-placed sentence.

"My Lord, allow the Prince a moment to consult with his advisors." As Niall walked away from the table and back to the tent that had been pitched for him, Rival's hand still on his shoulder, Ceannaideach smiled to himself. Again, he felt himself grateful to a Vampire. It was a strange feeling, but if they continued to prove themselves so useful he might get accustomed to the idea. Personally, he could not have thought of a more perfect scenario, nor could he have launched it so beautifully. Following behind his grandfather, he allowed the others to speak first.

"My Lord, we have no choice." Rival stated, with as much calm as he could muster. Ceannaideach watched as they went back and forth, Callum and Rival attempting to make Niall see reason. Halbjorn could walk away from the table now, feigning insult over Niall's refusal, and then they would all be dead at Lidan's hand and the war would continue. One woman, even a Royal woman, was not so much to ask, they attempted to convince him. Niall stood his ground though. He would not surrender a Princess of his house to be drained or kept locked away. It was unbearable! Halbjorn asked for no wife, he asked for a sacrifice; proof for all to see, in this last moment, of the total and utter weakness of his enemy.

Ceannaideach waited until the silence descended once more, Callum and Rival having given up hope of convincing the Prince of the necessity of acceding to this request, and then he allowed his voice to softly fill the space.

"Give him Saoirse." The one sentence seemed to freeze time itself as Niall, Callum, and Rival all gaped at him in stunned silence. "She is only an eighth Fae after all: he will not be compelled by his very nature to kill her. She is, as you always emphasize, dear grandfather, a Princess of our house, and the fact remains that no full Fairy will have her. She is the perfect peace offering." The small smile that played on Ceannaideach's face was enough to break the spell that seemed to hold Niall prisoner and, before he could fully form the intent in his head, he was across the small space of his tent, his hands around his grandson's throat, attempting to squeeze the life he now thoroughly despised out of the boy.

"Give me a reason?" Niall screamed at him, spit flying onto the younger man's face. "Give me one reason why I should not kill you where you stand? Give me a reason I should not squeeze the treacherous life out of your miserable body!" Ceannaideach only smiled as best he could and pried the Prince's hands from his throat, just enough to get air.

"Because I have given you your only viable alternative." The words struck Niall as if they were a sword through his belly. The truth behind his hateful kin's words caused a ringing in his ears that threatened to bring him to his knees. So caught up was he in his own disbelief that he barely heard the murmurs of assent from Rival and Callum. He did not need to hear them. His hatred of Ceannaideach in this moment went hand in hand with the veracity of boy's statement.

The only true question now was if he could do it. Could he lose her? No, not lose her, sacrifice her? She, who he loved above all others. Was any life, any number of lives, worth as much to him as her single, mostly human and, undoubtedly, short-lived one was? She was so much more to him than the sum of her tiny life. She was his last link to his beloved son, butchered so many years ago. Loving her, he had always hoped, could redeem him of the wrong he had done. And he did love her. He had not the slightest inkling, on that day fifteen years ago, when he took the sobbing child in his arms, the last survivor of her slaughtered family, that he could ever love as he had loved her. She was his light, his life, his joy and his pride. Her sweet laughter, her keen mind, her kind heart; they had brought him all the peace he had felt in the last decade and a half. Could he now give her into darkness? Throw her to the monster outside in the inky night? Turn his back on her and hope that she lived? Would living even be preferable, if it meant being surrounded by these blood drinking monsters, Demons who were little better than the barbaric Humans they had once been?

"My Lord," Rival's hand fell, yet again, on his shoulder, "you do not have a choice. King Lidan demands peace. If you return without it for the sake of the girl, we will all perish, followed by our people. You must." The pain in Rival's voice was evident. He cared nothing for the girl, but he cared a great deal for his Master, and he knew that the child was like the sun to his Prince. Still, he could not allow Niall's personal desires to compromise the chance for peace.

"Very well." Niall heard the disbelief in his own voice. In truth, he could not believe he had even said it. Yet, the moment Ceannaideach had spoken, a part of him knew the future had been sealed. He was now only a messenger, bringing the acceptance of Fate to his enemy.

Halbjorn waited patiently, still sitting at the table. He had no doubt in his mind what Niall's answer would be. Niall had no choice and they both knew it. The air changed suddenly, the smell of heavy magic returning as Niall again found his seat at the table. The ability to mask his and his men's scents was truly astonishing. He hoped any Fairy Niall sent to him would not be able to do so though. It would take the fun out of everything.

"I agree to your terms." Niall began slowly. "I offer you my great granddaughter, Saoirse, as a bride and a gift to bind us in peace." Niall's words were mechanical. "She is only partly Fae, but I believe that she will be a worthy wife for you." Only part Fae? Halbjorn felt his mouth opening, ready to refuse such a paltry offer. He did not want some mostly human, half breed from the wrong side of Niall's blanket. He intended both to enjoy his prize and to deprive Niall of a full Fairy female. Yet, as he was about to protest, the moonlight fell completely on Niall and Halbjorn saw ,without a doubt, the bitter pain that lay there at this offer. It might not have been what he originally wanted, but he could see that taking this particular female from the Prince hurt him in some great way. And in the end, was that not the entire point of his demand?

"I accept." Halbjorn said, the note of triumph in his voice. "I will give you three weeks' time to make the peace known and prepare the girl, and then I will send for her.

Niall could do nothing but bow his head in acceptance. It was done, and nothing could change it.

.0O~*~O0.

Saoirse could see, from the small windows that lined the walls of the great hall, that the sun had just set. She tried not to look around her anxiously, but she could not help it. Being here, being forced to eat with her other family members, had never been pleasant, but now it was a torture beyond compare. She had just an hour or so more to endure and then she could leave. Picking up her knife and paring off another slice of meat, she put it in her mouth careful at all times to keep the heavy silver bracelets that adorned her wrist in place. She could not risk the chance that the puncture marks they hid might be seen by her kin.

Tonight she had managed to be all but invisible, sitting not with her family but at one of the small trestle tables that lined the hall, with Amena and the other servants. It seemed that Ceiridwyn was commanding all the family attention tonight as she again bemoaned her fear for Coleman. It had been three days since Niall had set off for Sterling and Coleman for Rome. With any hope they would both return soon with good news.

Saoirse stayed silent as she heard Ceiridwyn again voicing her fears that the Vampires would just as soon eat Niall and Coleman as make peace, worrying endlessly that she would end without a husband, widowed even before her marriage by the blood sucking monsters.

When it appeared that her family members were too deep in their woes, real or imagined, exaggerated or truthful, she got up slowly and made her way out of the room. She was almost to the passageway that led to the stairs when she heard Caronwyn's voice.

"And where are you going, little cousin?" Saoirse felt her back stiffen. She could never read her full Fae cousins well, but she got enough of their emotional state to know their moods most of the time, and right now Caronwyn was bored: bored of listening to Ceridwyn whine and tired of not being the center of attention. Nothing good could come of this mood. Turning around slowly, Saoirse kept her eyes locked on the floor.

"I am not feeling well cousin. I am returning to my room." She felt the sharp spike of Caronwyn's temper before the next words were even out of her mouth.

"You have been feeling badly much of late, little cousin, and you are looking so weak. Perhaps the weight of those is causing you to feel ill." Caronwyn motioned to the bracelets around Saoirse's wrist, gifts from Niall, and was out of her chair now and stalking slowly towards her. She could see Ceiridwyn still sitting, a malevolent smile on her face. Within a moment Saoirse was face to face with her cousin.

Before she could protest, she felt Caronwyn grab her wrist. Her heart stopped. She loved these bracelets that Niall had given her with all her heart and would never have worn them while he was not here, except that she needed to hide the two small holes on her wrist. Those marks suddenly became the most important thing to her though, and she knew what she would have to do.

Pulling her wrist back with all her might, she took the bracelets off before Caronwyn could protest and held them out to her with her other hand. Caronwyn stood, astonished, as she watched Saoirse hand them over, tears coming to her eyes.

"It's what you want, isn't it? So take them." Practically throwing the bracelets at her cousin, she ran through the passage and down the hall. Her first thought had been to hurry back to her room, but she knew that, if she went there, Caronwyn might corner her, unhappy at being deprived of her favorite game of cat and mouse, being able to steal Saoirse's bracelet's so easily. Instead, Saoirse changed direction, heading toward the kitchen and the door that led away from the castle and to the beach. She did not bother with a cloak or any other covering to shelter herself from the summer rain that had begun to pelt the island two nights ago, she simply ran until she was down the stairs, out the door and halfway to the beach.

Only when the fisherman's cottage was in sight did she stop. She could see, from the small distance that she still had to traverse, that there was a light glowing from inside. She knew he would be there, as he had been the last three nights, still weak from his wound, but she still feared each time she came here that he might suddenly be gone. She didn't know why that thought terrified her so much, but it did. In three nights he had become something to her: something important.

Of course, he had known she was there while she was still making her way down the cliff, but he still could not stop himself from the excitement that her nearness caused. When she opened the door, standing breathlessly in front him, her hair wild from the rain and the wind and her tattered dress wetly clinging to her beautiful form, he could not help the smile that played across his features.

"I feared you might not come tonight?" He said, his voice light, belying the happiness he felt at the nearness of his newfound patron goddess. He held out his hand to her, ushering her into the warmth of the small room and marveling when she took it. Her hand was so small in comparison to his, so warm. He could not remember a time in the last centuries when he had touched anyone without the desire to hurt them, when he had laid a hand on a Human without the intent to kill or harm.

"I had to go to dinner with the others before I could come." She replied, by way of explanation. She sat next to him, in front of the fire he'd made, letting her mind fill with his wonderful silence and her eyes drink in his beauty. She knew what he was, in the most roundabout way. But why was he here? Who was he really? She found she could not reconcile what she knew of the fearsome Vampire she suspected him to be and what she saw of the man that clearly still resided in him.

"I still do not know who you are." He turned to her suddenly, his blue eyes intense in the light from the yellow flames. She stilled under his scrutiny, unsure of how much to reveal. "What do you do in the castle? Who are your people?" The questions were dangerous and she knew it. In the three nights since she'd brought him here they had talked only a little, his strength seeming to have returned just a bit in the past night. She was not foolish enough to believe, no matter how gentle he seemed, that she could reveal that she was kin to the Prince. She had let him draw his own conclusions from her dress.

"I'm no one, just Sookie. My family… my parents and brother, my grandfather, they are all dead. I was brought to live in the castle when I was a child." He nodded his head, seeming to accept her vague explanation. "Who are you, Eric?" He laughed softly, his fangs snicking down and startling her.

"You know what I am already." She nodded at that but pressed on.

"I asked _who_ you are. Why are you here? This island is crawling with Fairies, Fairies you are at war with. Why have you come here? How did you end up nearly dead on the beach at dawn?" He gave her a penetrating look, wondering if he should be honest with her. She had helped him, it was true. She could have let him burn to his final death on that morning, three days ago, and she did not. Still, she was clearly a servant to his enemies. If he told her why he was here, what was to stop her from going to them? But, if she had wanted him dead she could have just left him to burn. As he studied her now he felt…something. She was as lonely as he, as lost as he, even though she called this place Home.

"You know much about the war then?" He asked, his tone grave. Again, she merely nodded, her sincere eyes telling him that she knew much more than most Humans. "I am a fighter. I, and the men who came with me, were sent here to kill your Prince Niall. The others met their final death during the fight with the Royal guards. I managed to escape, though not without injury, as you saw." He said it all as though it were merely dinner conversation, no more or less important than the freshness of the meat or the warmth of the bread. Saoirse kept her eyes locked on him, hoping that her face betrayed nothing of her shock or her fear.

"But Niall has gone to make the peace." He looked at her now with genuine surprise on his face.

"When?"

"Four days ago. He left on the day before I found you on the beach. Did not you know?" He shook his head at her. So, Niall had gone to make peace. It seemed his mission had been for naught, his men finally dead for nothing. Would Halbjorn even make peace? Six nights ago, he had been itching to end the Prince, to land a blow that would cripple the Fairies, so eager for it that he had allowed Eric and his men to journey to the island and attempt to assassinate him. Now there was to be peace.

"Then I have come for nothing." Though, as he looked at her, he did not believe that. His mission had been for nothing, but he had not come away from it empty handed. Wounded; yes. Nearly dead; yes. But he had found something as well and, looking at her, he wondered exactly what it was that he had found. What was she? What could she be to him? Before he could contemplate it any more, she held out her wrist to him.

"Drink." She said softly. He took her hand, holding it up to his mouth. His eyes never left hers as he gently re-punctured the marks he had made three nights ago, her delicate, delicious blood filling his mouth. Her blood was healing him faster than he could ever have dreamed, though he did not know why, and with each draw he felt his strength returning. After a few minutes he let his tongue slide over the wounds, cleaning them and re-sealing them, making sure that they would not become infected.

"Tomorrow night I will go down to the village and hunt." He said, matter-of-factly. He felt her shiver and saw the sadness in her eyes just before she turned back to the fire. "This bothers you. I promise I will not kill anyone." He laughed softly, though he did not say that it was because it was in his best interest not to kill anyone and rouse suspicion of his presence here.

"I…I do not want you to feed from someone else." She had no idea why she'd said it but, as the words fell from her mouth, she knew them to be true. He was a virtual stranger to her, a dangerous enemy. He had come to kill the only family she truly had, the only family she truly loved. She should be terrified, horrified. Saving him had been an act of lunacy and yet it was true that, in the three nights she had spent with him here, she had come to think of him as hers. She had come to think of this beautiful, frightening creature as _her_ creature, and no matter what vile thing he had been sent to do, no matter how much her head told her that she should leave here and not return until he was gone, the thought of his lips brushing anyone else's skin, his cool tongue on another's veins, brought her pain. She felt his hand now, cupping her cheek and turning her face towards his, unknowing of the true extent of the turmoil that raged within her.

"I am past my youth in this life, but I still require a great deal more blood than only one Human can provide. If I am to regain my strength and leave before I am discovered, before your help is discovered, I must feed from others." His eyes held something she could not immediately place, their icy depths seeming warm all of a sudden as he looked on her. "But I wish it did not have to be so." With those words, more true than he cared to admit, he brought her face closer to his. She came willingly, her body seeming to be drawn to his.

They shared one last soulful look before his lips came down softly on hers. The groan which came from him now seemed to well up from the depth of him, where his heart had once resided. Her lips were as soft and sweet as her blood, the taste of her mouth as intoxicating as any draught of her deep red life force. The feeling of her against him was more right than anything he had experienced since he woke to this existence. Again, he marveled at her. He had not kissed a woman in centuries: the intimacy of the thing had always repulsed him. He had taken pleasure from countless of them and had given pleasure to the few he had not finished off, but never a kiss. Never had he felt, or desired to feel, the joining of what was left of the man inside him with another. But she made him want it; she made him feel it. This little Human, dressed in rags, had saved him so fearlessly, so foolishly, and in doing so she had awakened something in him that had been slumbering, beaten down and denied, but not actually dead.

Sookie could not help herself. The moment his lips touched hers, she knew. She knew what the thing that had possessed her these few days was, what he had brought to life in her and what had guided her movements. Inching still closer, pressing herself against him, she knew. Whatever he was, whatever he was sent to do, he had come for her, had been meant to find her. All her life she had lived an outcast, reviled by her kin, beloved only by her grandfather and her nurse, and it had been for this moment: to find this man, to finally find her place in his arms.

When his mouth released hers, she looked up at him, the breath returning to her body in heaving gulps. They stared at each other for only a moment before she felt his arms come around her, pulling her to him completely, his mouth descending on hers once more. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her with as much strength as she had and letting everything else fall away.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story, put in their favorites, and on alert. I'm so overwhelmed by the responses to this story and I can't express my gratitude to y'all enough!_

_I also have to thank my beta Sheknitsnicely. You're so awesome, I can't thank you enough for working with me, I'm so, SO lucky to have you! I love you!_

_Disclaimer: We all know I don't own them, I just wish I did!_

The fire had long since burned down to embers and yet they remained just where they were, laid out in front of its dying warmth, entwined in each other's arms. She watched him intently as his eyes became heavier. Lifting her hand to his cheek, their gazes locking one last time, she laid the softest of kisses on his mouth and watched as the dawn took him.

They had stayed awake all night, talking only very little and now, though she knew she must, she dreaded having to leave him. To leave the little world they had begun to create for themselves here was like waking from the sweetest dream, a dream she wished she could stay in it only a little longer, to revel in the joy that the memories of the night brought to her. But she knew it was too dangerous. Amena would already know that she had spent the night on the beach and she would be angry, but if anyone else were to discover it, it could be dangerous to them both.

Taking the blanket from where it lay on their legs she covered him gently, kissing his cheeks and eyes tenderly as she lifted the material to shield him. She marveled one last time, as the blanket covered him completely, at the insanity of what she had done. She had rescued a Vampire, she had sheltered a Vampire… had she fallen in love with him? She wasn't sure, but she knew she already cared for him differently and more intensely than she had ever cared for anyone. She could marvel at her insanity, but she could not bring herself to regret it. Even now, though he was completely unaware of her presence here, she felt as though he was calling to her, compelling her to stay with him and forget everything else.

She was not naïve enough to pretend that he was an innocent, and not foolish enough to pretend that he wasn't dangerous. He had revealed last night, without a moment's hesitation, just how very dangerous he was and with how little compunction he would kill, and yet she felt somehow sure that he would never hurt her and that he felt deeply for her as well.

Steeling herself against the need to stay near him, Saoirse closed the little door to the cottage and made her way back up to the castle. She could have laughed when she saw Amena in her now familiar position, waiting in her rooms, arms crossed under her bosom, face red and scowling, her foot displacing the freshly laid rushes on the flagstones as it tapped away in consternation.

"Not this morning Amena, please?" Saoirse said as she sat at the small table and began to eat her breakfast. Just as Amena was about to reply with a biting rebuke she could already hear running through her nurse's head, there was a knock at the door. Amena rushed forward and answered it. Saoirse didn't need to hear the whispered conversation to know that it was one of Niall's pages. He had returned and wished to see her immediately. The relief that flooded through her was so intense that she was glad she was sitting. First, her night with Eric and now her grandfather was home and safe. Truly, this day was blessed.

Just as Saoirse was finishing, Amena closed the door behind Niall's page and began to pull dresses out of the chest where they kept her finer clothes, the ones she only wore when Niall was in residence.

"I think the green silk today, don't you?" Amena asked, suddenly in higher spirits. Whatever her mistress was up to on the beach, she was sure that Niall's return would put a stop to it. Saoirse was always happier and easier to manage when the Prince was here. Yes, all would be much better now, she told herself, pulling out the fine garment and a few beautiful matching ribbons that she would braid into Saoirse's hair to compliment the dress.

An hour later, Saoirse entered her grandfather's apartments with a smile painting her face. She was so glad that he was safe and, though she felt trepidation when she thought of the possible concession s they might have to make to the Vampires, she was sure that Niall had done his best.

"Grandfather!" She said when she saw him standing by his desk, arms crossed over his chest, staring out the window. Running to him, she threw her arms around him and held him close. "I am so glad you are safe. We all worried terribly." She felt Niall return her embrace, but as his arms came around her, holding her more tightly than she could ever remember him doing, the physical contact rendered his mind more open to her and, though she had never, ever caught even a stray thought from him, she felt immediately his emotional state. He was angry, upset and deeply anguished.

Saoirse pulled back from him almost immediately and, when she caught sight of his face, the still wet tracks of the tears that streamed down it confirmed his pain. "What is it? What has happened?" Niall made no answer, only pushed her away from him and turned his back on her, leaning over his desk as though he could not even support the full weight of his body. "Grandfather, please, you're scaring me! What has happened?" Her words were like a noose around his neck, tightening with every breath he tried to take, but he knew he had no choice but to tell her.

"The peace has been made." He began. "Halbjorn has agreed to allow us to remain in this realm and to keep Ireland as our stronghold." He felt Saoirse's hand on his back, urging him to turn and look at her. He could not.

"Grandfather, this is wonderful! Truly, it is much more than any of us had expected." She said, trying to understand what was disturbing him so.

"There is more." He attempted to tell her but his voice broke in a sob. In his centuries of life, in his centuries as a Prince of his people and a warrior, through all the death and sorrow that he had endured, nothing, NOTHING, had ever cut so deeply to his heart as the news that he must tell her next. He would have given himself in exchange if he thought for a moment that Halbjorn would have agreed to it. But he knew, with the understanding that only one monster could have for another, that his anguish was the true purpose at the heart of Halbjorn's request. Keeping him, draining him, even if Halbjorn managed to control himself and make the end slow, would not have pleased his enemy as much as the knowledge that the pain of this moment would haunt him for centuries to come.

"Halbjorn has requested a marriage to bolster the peace." He finally spat out, his words coming without breath between them, hoping that the quicker they were said the faster the agony would be over. He turned now to his great granddaughter, taking her in for the first time in days, watching her as the shock registered on her face. Astonishment was there, but not yet understanding.

He distracted his mind while waiting for her reply, by truly looking at her. So often, when he gazed upon her, he saw the little girl that she had been all those years ago: tear stained, dirty, frightened in a way that a small child should never have to be. But she was none of those things anymore. He marveled quietly that she was only so little Fae, for truly he could not think of one of his full blooded kinswomen who was more beautiful than she. Her hair shone like spun gold in the morning sunlight that streamed in through the casement and her skin was like cream, touched with the softest blush at her lips and cheeks, but it was her eyes that were her true beauty.

They shone the same color as the sky on a clear day and the pools of bright, vivid color ran deep, all the way down to the heart of her, still very much innocent despite the trials of her life, and filled with love. Love he knew that she gave so freely, love that never allowed her to understand the darker nature of others, love that led her to deep pain when others did not recognize or return the gift she so freely granted. How long would it be before his child's heart was crushed? How long would it be before the light that made him love her so was deadened by the blow that fate had dealt them both? Would he ever see her again, after he gave her into darkness? If he did, would he even recognize her, or would the woman who stood before him now, shining brighter than the sun and worth more than any of the priceless things he had given her in her short life, be a mere memory? Would she walk the rest of her days a wraith, a shadow of who she was now?

"I don't understand. He demands… a Fae bride? But surely he will kill her before the vows are even said?" Niall felt the grimace that darkened his face. No, understanding had not yet come to her.

"This was my great fear. We have lost so many. I…we…the people cannot afford to lose another mother." He saw the moment realization dawned. He had been wrong, telling her was not the true punishment. Watching as she understood, as she realized how thoroughly her life was over, how deeply he had betrayed her, this was the payment of the Fae debt that Halbjorn wished to extract. He almost felt pity for the Vampire King that he would not be able to be here, a fly on the wall, to watch his triumph.

"No." The single word pierced him like a blade. He watched as she backed away from him, shaking her head back and forth in disbelief, as though he meant to do her real, physical harm. He wished with all his heart to comfort her, to take her in his arms, to take away her hurt even though he was the cause of it. But there was no help for it. No magic he had could change what would come. Instead he lowered his head again, not wishing to look any longer as the light of her love for him died in her eyes.

"Forgive me child. If I could have done differently I would have, but there was no choice. You will go to Halbjorn in three week's time. He will send his Commander at Arms and a contingent of his army to bring you back to Upsala." The silence between them was deafening. It was almost a relief when he heard the door slam shut and looked up to realize that she had fled the room.

There was no place to hide. There was no place to run. No place to breathe. There was no place to escape the sorrow and fear that lanced through her. It felt as though the world had come crashing down on her. Saoirse walked aimlessly through the stone halls, her mind no longer attached to her body. For the first time in her life, the pain she felt caused her mind to seem to contract in on itself. She heard nothing, no thoughts from others, no emotions broadcasting so loudly that she had to try to block them out, nothing. She had no room, no ability, to perceive anything but her own distress.

Suddenly, without warning, she felt herself begin to laugh. The sound was ugly and anguished even to her own ears, and yet what else was there to do? Tears were useless, as was returning to Niall and begging him to release her from this arrangement. She remembered, bitterly, sitting at his feet only days ago, promising that if only he would return to her safely she and her people would deal with the consequences of the peace. She would ask for nothing more than his safe return. Her laughter grew louder, tinged with the hysteria that was bubbling up within her. How everything had changed in just those few days!

But what had she expected? Had she really thought that he would come back to her safely, the war would end without a single hardship, and…what then? He would let her marry Eric and live with him here? It was all uproariously comical now. Now she admitted to herself that, somewhere deep inside, this was exactly what she had hoped for, almost since the first night in the cottage, when Eric had taken her blood for the first time.

She supposed in some way she had brought this all on herself. She had, after all, entertained the ridiculous notion that she could find happiness with a Vampire. She had gone so far as to wish for it. She just hadn't thought to be specific, not really expecting the fates to have been listening to her.

Strong arms went around her from behind suddenly and Saoirse was startled to see Amena. She fell against her nursemaid now, unable to continue to support her weight unaided. The nurse pulled Saoirse to her, helping her walk as they made their way slowly back to her lady's rooms.

"There, there." Amena clucked softly. "All will be well." Saoirse wanted to scream at her that all would not be well, nothing would ever be well again, but she had no energy for it and she knew, even if she could rouse herself to it, the argument would be pointless. When they reached Saoirse's rooms, Amena helped her out of her dress and laid her gently on her bed.

"You know then?" Saoirse questioned. It was not even noon but she felt bone weary. Amena sat on the bed next to her, smoothing the hair at her forehead.

"Yes child. The Prince came here looking for you shortly after you left his apartments. When he did not find you he explained all to me." Saoirse nodded her head, the fear creeping up once again to displace her weariness.

"What am I to do?" She asked, her fear evident. Amena looked at her and her face turned hard. The hardness was not born of anger or of cruelty though, it was born of determination.

"Your duty." The nurse answered. Saoirse felt herself readying to protest, but Amena's thick finger fell over her mouth, silencing her. "I saw how you looked at Ceiridwyn when Coleman was here. You wished to have a mate of your own, to love and to bring your family honor by your marriage. You cannot have the first two my child, I am sorry for it, but it is true. However, you can bring honor to your family and to your people by this. You must. You will not be alone, I will be with you, and we will endure as we have to." The tears came then, violent like a gale off the water and they seemed to tear her apart. For a long time neither woman said anything, Amena continuing to stroke Saoirse's hair as she came to terms with the new path her life had taken. At length, the tears ran out and Saoirse simply lay on the bed. She was exhausted and her head ached from the tempest that had been her weeping, but nothing had changed. She was still herself; still harboring one enemy, growing ever more attached to him as the nights came and went, and now sold to another.

"Who is he?" Amena finally asked. Saoirse looked up at her startled, suddenly frightened again.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She answered tartly, turning her face into the pillow and away from Amena's searching gaze. But she knew that the older woman would not be put off. She should have known that her nurse would suspect something. Amena always saw to the heart of things; she had learned that years ago.

"Yes you do. You've escaped to your beach for years, but I've never seen you return from it as you have the last few mornings. Who is the boy?" Saoirse had no idea what to say. Amena might be wise and see things more clearly than others, but she knew her nurse would never be able to guess the truth. Who could?

"Who he is, is no longer important, is it? Nothing I want or desire has ever been important." Amena sat silently for a moment, looking down on the girl she had cared for since she had been brought to the castle as a frightened five year old.

"You have three weeks before Halbjorn's Commander at Arms comes. I will say no more about the beach for that time. Only look that you are careful no one else finds out." Saoirse looked up at her nurse, the disbelief evident on her face. Amena only stared back at her with that same determined expression on her face. "And don't do anything foolish, girl. Halbjorn will smell it if you do!"

.oO~*~Oo.

When the final rays of sun had been swallowed by darkness, he'd awoken. She was not there and, this night, Eric thought that best. He was still weak from the silver poisoning but Sookie's blood had healed him far faster than he could have imagined. It had only been five nights, but he was strong enough to hunt again.

He crept quietly from the beach to the village a few miles away and glamoured several of the humans there into allowing him to feed. He had promised Sookie that he would not kill anyone and, even though he could have drained the entire village in his hunger, Eric was as good as his word. He knew that he could do nothing to rouse suspicion. He could only hope that the Fairy guards who'd attacked him and his men had believed he'd died of his injuries or been too weak to shelter from the dawn and burned with the sun.

He knew that he had come very close to just that and, as he fed from the Humans, it was Sookie's face that was before him. The face of his savior. She had risked her life, whether she realized it or not, to help him and he would do nothing that would end in him being caught and killed or in her complicity being discovered.

As he made his way back to the cottage, he wondered for the millionth time why she had done it. Why had she saved him? She had told him very little of herself, except that she lived in the castle and had no living family. Still if she lived in the castle then she was a servant of the Prince and his family. Why had a servant of the Fae risked herself for him? Why had she given him her protection and her blood? They were questions he had no answers to.

Yet, if he was honest with himself, he cared very little. She had saved him. She had sheltered and protected him, fed and cared for him in a way that no one had in centuries, perhaps in his whole existence, Human or Vampire. He cared little for another truth that seemed to nag him constantly as well.

She had not just saved him or cared for him, she had changed him. She had awoken something in him, something he had no name for except humanity. He was no longer a fledgling, he could control his desires and his passions, yet they were always with him, those dark Vampiric yearnings for blood even until death, for violence and for cruelty whether he acted on them or not. But, with her, they seemed to recede into the background. Instead she roused in him desires that he had not felt in so long he barely understood them. In the five days he had known her, not once had he attempted to overpower her, to drain her dry of the blood so sweet and perfect that it rivaled even that of an actual Fairy. Not once, when he'd fed from her, had he taken, or even desired to take from her, pleasure that she had been unwilling to offer.

The memory of the night before came flooding back to him vividly. She had lain in his arms the whole night long and he had done nothing more than kiss her, feel her soft and warm and sweet against him, reveling in her nearness alone. And yet he desired her. He desired her as he had desired no other woman in the entirety of his life. Her sweet smiles and guileless eyes inflamed him, her intoxicating blood and softly curved body cried out to the most primal part of him. The sight of her by the light of the fire made every part of him, from his fangs to his cock, hard and aching with want. And yet, even when his strength had returned, he had barely touched her.

Even as Eric made his way back to the cottage, his every nerve was focused on sensing her, on containing the excitement of knowing that he would be with her shortly. He wanted her, he desired her, he wished to have every part of her for himself, and yet he knew that, when he returned the cottage, hoping that she would be there, he would not so much as touch her in any way she did not permit. He could not. With her he could take nothing that was not given freely. His desires for her were tempered by a deep, alien need to shelter and protect her as she had him. Again, he asked himself why?

The answer was there at the edge of his consciousness, but he balked away from it. Everything that he had learned in the last two hundred and seventy years told him that he was not capable of that emotion, even as he knew that there was only one name for it. And yet, what else could it be? Why else would act this way? It was true, even if he was not ready to admit it.

Still, he freely admitted that his mind had been filled with little else, for days now, but visions of taking her from this place, of bringing her home with him. If what Sookie had said was true and the war was over then he would go back and ask to be released from his vow of fealty. He would travel with Sookie back to his home and live there with her quietly. When his maker had released him, he had had not a thing to his name, but in the century and a half since then he had changed that. Sookie had nothing here: she had no family, she barely had the clothes on her back, it seemed to him. If she would agree to come with him, he would give her a life she could not even dream of. Anything and everything it was in his power to give would be hers, and in return he would make her his!


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: So here is chapter five . Things are getting kind of angsty and I figured since I'll be laying it on with a trowel for about the next four or five chapters we all deserved a little treat. So, what could be more therapeutic, I thought, than a little lemon! I don't want to make people too unhappy though, this story is categorized as romance/adventure and as we progress through the next five chapters there will be less and less angst and a whole lot more adventure! I can't thank everyone who has reviewed, alerted and favorite enough! You all are wonderful, thank you, thank you, thank you! _

_I also have to thank my beta/editor Sheknitsnicely. I do at the beginning of every chapter cause she is worth more than GOLD! She makes every chapter so much better and gives me such good advice and keeps me on the rails when I'm straying into TOO much angst or melodrama! I love you girl, you rock! _

_Disclaimer: I don't own them! …_

"Sookie." He said, his voice soft, attempting to hold in the joy at her presence that wanted to overwhelm him. He stood motionless in the doorway, watching her. She was there sitting, in front of the fire, her back to him, her long hair left to fall freely down her back in rivers of gold. When she did not turn or acknowledge him, he closed the door and walked slowly to her side.

Coming to stand before her, her face in profile as she continued to stare into the flames, he could clearly see the tracks of the tears that fell down her cheeks. Kneeling next to her, he brought his hand to her chin, forcing her to turn and face him. At first she continued to just stare at him, her eyes landing on his chest and slowly moving up wards, but when her eyes reached his, it was as if the spell that had kept her still was broken. She launched herself into his arms, her tears flowing freely, the sound of her sobs cutting the air between them and piercing his heart, one after the other.

"Eric." It was the only word she said, over and over again, as she clung to him. He had not comforted another since his children, now long dead, had been small, but the knowledge of what he should do and the desire to do it welled up in him immediately. Closing his arms around her, bringing his hand to stroke her hair and laying gentle kisses to the top of her head, he crooned wordless sounds and held her till the tempest of her emotions settled.

"What has upset you so, little one?" He asked her when her sobs had subsided. She looked up at him, her face still wet, her eyes earnest and blue and filled with such grief.

What should she tell him? Throughout the long day, all Sookie could think of was coming here, being with him, finding silence and peace and comfort in his arms. And yet, what could she say? They hardly knew each other. He was not a man or even a Fairy and she had no idea what his wants or desires were in this life. Perhaps he would not share her grief. Perhaps he had no desire to be with her beyond these few nights on this beach. Even if he did, she could not tell him the truth without admitting that she had deceived him, without admitting that she was kin to the Prince, kin to the very person he had come here to kill. How had she ever let this happen? How had she allowed herself to care so deeply for the murderer sent to kill her own grandfather?

"I am to be married." She whispered, afraid to voice the hateful thing and make it that much more real. Eric felt her words like tiny shards of silver over his skin. The pain he felt was so disproportionate to the time she had spent in his life. Five nights, they were like the blink of an eye in an existence that was already centuries old, and yet in that blink, in that tiny millisecond of time, he had gone from not even knowing that this creature existed, to feeling for her things that he had never known were possible. He could not allow her to belong to another. It could not, it _would_ not, be permitted.

"You cannot marry another. You are mine." He spoke the words softly but with finality. Sookie held back the bitter laugh that wanted to break free. Would that it could be so simple.

"And yet I must. I have no choice Eric. I have nothing and am nothing, but what those who care for me make me. They have decided that I should marry and I cannot say no." How she wished she could tell him the truth. She knew it made no sense to him, the way she had misled him, and yet she knew that she could not tell him, especially now, no matter how much she desired to. He would go back to whatever life he had had before he came to this island and she would marry a King, his King, and they would never see each other again.

"Come with me." Sookie felt the shock radiate through her body at his words, as her head jerked up and her eyes widened.

"What?" He took her hands in his own, his eyes compelling hers to lock with his.

"Come with me. Be mine and I will take you away from all of this. I am of no small means in this world. I will care for you and protect you and give you everything your heart desires. You have only to say yes." She felt her stomach clench and her lungs burn. The tears came again, just as strong, although falling silently. One day earlier and she would have been able to say yes. One day earlier and her tears would have been from joy and not pain. It was a pain worse than any she had ever felt, worse than the taunts and hatred of her kin, worse than the loss of her human family, worse than the loneliness of her life, even worse than the pain and confusion the voices had caused. Perhaps because it was not just the loss of Eric or the life she might have had with him, but the loss of all her hopes and dreams for the future as well. She could only shake her head.

"I cannot. I wish that I could, more than I can ever say, but it isn't possible." She felt him about to protest and pulled one of her hands out of his, placing it gently over his mouth. "Please don't ask me to explain why, because I cannot. Please just believe me. It is impossible, no matter how much I desire it." He didn't know why he did not argue, perhaps because he saw how much grief this brought her. If this caused her to suffer so much and yet she would not attempt to avoid it, she must mean what she said. Instead he brought her back into the circle of his arms, holding her to him, one hand cradling the back of her head, bringing it to rest in the curve of his neck.

"But I love you." He whispered to her, the words falling from his mouth without his consent. The admission had shocked him, but feeling the heart he had thought long dead break at the admittance of such a terrifying and human emotion, he knew he could no longer deny it. Her arms tightened around him, proof that she had heard his words.

"I love you too." Her words were equally soft, her voice filled with the same mixture of shock and acceptance of a sentiment so much stronger than it should have been.

He heard her response but said nothing. Instead, he held her tighter and made his plans. She loved him as well, so he could not leave her here to waste her life bearing brats for some lowly servant. He would journey back to Upsala, secure his release and return for her. She would be his, even if he had to slaughter the pathetic Human who stood in his way.

"You hunted tonight." Sookie's voice finally broke the silence, neither a question nor a statement, but a resigned sigh somewhere in between. Eric stroked her hair one final time, releasing her just a bit so that they could look at each other once more.

"Yes. Thanks to you, my strength has returned." He felt the sigh well up in him, such a very Human gesture, and stifled it. "Tomorrow night I must leave. I have stayed too long already." Sookie only nodded in return. She had always known, of course, that he could not stay. But she had hoped for longer. She felt unable to handle yet another sorrow this day. She felt Eric's hand cup her cheek and raise her eyes to his once more.

"I will come back for you." He said, the fire of conviction in his voice, his eyes blue and clear and filled with sincerity. How could she tell him that, by the time he returned, she would already be gone? Perhaps, in truth, he would not return. Perhaps, once he left this place, and the spell it seemed to have cast on them both, he would forget all about her, go back to his life and to the many women who no doubt graced his nights, and never think on her again.

In the end she said nothing and he did not wait for a reply, instead bringing her lips to his for another of the drugging kisses that she had longed for since last night. If only she could freeze time itself. She knew of Fairies whose magic was powerful enough to do it. Oh, to have such a gift! She would use it now, to freeze them in this night, this last night when they were not a Fairy and a Vampire, when the demands of the outside world were still at bay, when they were nothing more than two people who loved each other.

Eric pulled away from her again, only long enough to look into her deep blue eyes, to gain her permission. She nodded once and allowed him to lay her back on the blanket, next to the fire. Slowly, slowly their clothing melted away until there was nothing between them. He was more beautiful than she could have ever imagined, hard and cold, defined and sculpted. Yet the only thing that he made her feel was heat. Looking up at him, seeing him ready and desiring her, made her feel as though there was not enough air in the room. And yet what she wanted the most was not room or air, but for him to lay his magnificent form atop hers, to let her feel every inch of him pressing into every inch of her.

When he finally gave her what she longed for, laying himself down over her, his head coming to rest in the bend of her neck, she felt one moment of trepidation. Bringing her hands to his face and lifting it, she stared deeply into his blue eyes, made dark with desire, willing him to understand.

"We can't…I can't…" The blush that crept over her features was almost as beautiful as the rest of her body. The smell of her blood roused him to a desire he had not felt possible. Freeing his head from her hands, he laid gentle kisses along her jaw, the sighs she gave him in response hardening him further, testing his will power.

"I know." His hand wandered down to the juncture between her legs, gently parting them and caressing the place he most longed to be. "I will not have you like that until the night that you are finally and truly mine. But there are so many other things, my lover, let me show you." She could not remember later if she had made a response. Things like words, language, ceased to have meaning as she lay there with him on top of her.

For Eric, the world seemed to contract down to this one room: the heat of the fire, the hardness of the floor under the blanket, and the softness of the woman who lay beneath him. His beautiful goddess, finally naked and open before him, her hair splayed out around her wildly, her breath coming in gentle gasps, her exquisite breasts finally laid bare before his eyes, rising and falling softly in anticipation. For the first time in centuries, he felt unsure where to start. She was a banquet fit for a King beneath him.

"Eric." The single word fell from her mouth, breathy and desperate, filled with both fear and desire, and spurred him into action. Laying himself fully on top of her once more, he started at her eyes, placing gentle kisses along them, down her nose, finally to her lips. Sookie lifted up slightly, trying to deepen the contact, but he moved on quickly, not allowing himself to be sidetracked by the sweet lips that were like siren songs to him.

His mouth explored further, gently running along her jaw, over the shell of her ear, down the graceful column of her throat, stopping only once or twice to lay a gentle nip here and there. He had never fed on any part of her but her wrist and he longed to sink his fangs, already extended and aching with want, into her sweet neck. But he stayed them, knowing that he would mark her far more intimately before the night was over, placing yet another visible symbol of his possession on her body.

Sookie was in a prison made entirely of her own desire when Eric's mouth finally found the valley between her breasts. No one had ever touched her this way. If not for the knowledge she had gained from the thoughts of others, she might have passed out from the shock of her need and the overwhelming urge to quench it. Instead, she placed one hand at the back of his neck, the other across the strong plains and cords of his back, and pleaded.

"Please, please." She begged, over and over again as his tongue came out to lave the same spot his lips had just caressed. Eric looked up at her, a small smile playing across his lips, highlighting the sharp whiteness of his fangs.

"Please what?" He questioned, playing with her, enjoying her longing and her wanton responses. Sookie took a deep breath, unbelieving of the words she was about to say.

"Kiss them, please." She knew she had flushed straight to scarlet as the words fell from her mouth, but she could not regret the voicing of her desire, or the accompanying lifting of her hips which brought the soft swells of flesh closer to his mouth as he instantly traveled from the space between them to one of her taught peaks and took it between his teeth.

Her cries of pleasure where like music to his ears, almost as stirring as the taste of her sweet breasts and the smell of her blood, heated with desire. Gently nipping the hardened peak one final time, Eric let his mouth descend lower, reaching the honeyed juncture that his fingers had already explored but that his mouth was ravenous to taste.

"Watch me." He commanded, his voice soft but insistent as he lowered his head. He saw her rear up slightly on her elbows, obeying his command, though he was unsure she could truly see anything through her passion glazed eyes. He smiled up at her one last time, a look filled with amusement, desire and hunger, before bringing his hands down to her once more, using his fingers to gently part her.

The smell of her assaulted his senses first, rich and dark, intoxicating, reminding him of the mead he'd drunk as a human, burning sweetness with an edge. Lowering his mouth to her, letting his tongue sneak out and take a long taste of her from her entrance to her nub, he felt the last of his thoughts recede under a wave of pure instinct: instinct to devour her, instinct to please her, instinct to please himself.

Sookie's arms trembled from the strain of keeping her up. Her entire body was one taught string waiting to snap as she watched Eric's golden head moving between her spread thighs and felt the incredible sensation of his lips, tongue and teeth feasting on her most intimate place. She was not entirely certain what was happening to her, but she felt desperately out of breath, as though she had been climbing a steep hill, and with every pass of his tongue against her body, every nip of his teeth, she felt the lightning bolts that shot up from her sex becoming more intense. She looked down once more to see him lying on his stomach, his head gently moving over her sex, his hair splayed out across her thighs and his hands reaching through her bent legs to cup her bottom and hold her firmly to him when suddenly, without warning the cliff fell out from under her, leaving her to fall into the sea of searing sensation below.

Eric could hear her cry of astonished pleasure as she felt what must have been her very first orgasm and turned his head slightly, finally allowing his fangs the release of being sheathed in her flesh. The euphoric rush of her blood, coupled with the desire her body had caused him, brought his own release as well and he came, his hips bucking into the floor, his tongue sucking desperately at her artery and his hands squeezing the firm globes of her bottom, keeping his goddess close to him as sanity fell away and then slowly returned.

When he could think once more, he looked up from the wound he had been gently lapping on her thigh to find Sookie holding herself up with only one arm, using the hand of the other to gently stroke his hair. The wild look of passion that had painted her face as he had feasted on her sex was replaced by one of gentle devotion and he knew that his own face must look startling similar.

He released her body from his grip and helped her lie back down. After stoking the fire and adding a few more logs, he lay down next to her, pulling her still nude form flush against his own, their chests pressed tightly against one another and their legs entwined.

For a long while they said nothing, only holding each other, each allowing the other to let their hands wander over the other and their lips explore. Finally, an hour before dawn, the soft caresses and gentle kisses became unbearable. His mouth roughly took hers once more as each of them brought their hands down to take hold of the other, Sookie stroking his rigid length with a grip that appeared far more assured than she felt, and Eric cupping her possessively, his fingers roaming once more over her sensitized center. The wave crested again for both of them, and when it was done Sookie looked once more into his eyes, which were filled with such longing and sadness.

"Do not come to me tomorrow." He said, his voice taking on a cold tone for only a moment, until he saw the hurt in her eyes. He stroked her cheek as he spoke again, more gently. "If you come to me, how will I ever find the strength to leave?" She understood. It had felt nearly impossible to leave his side at dawn the morning before. How much harder would it be this morning, when she knew, even if he did not, that they would never see each other again?

Sookie lay there for a few minutes more with him, watching as the sun took him under, and then began to slowly redress. She covered him gently with the blanket, kissing each piece of skin as it disappeared from her sight and then stood staring at the door. The sight of the door was almost frightening to her. Outside of it were so many fears, so many sorrows. Why…why could she not simply stay here with him? Why could she not bring herself to give in to her desires and allow him to take her away? None of her Fairy kin had ever done anything to deserve the sacrifice she was about to make for them. They had hated and reviled her from the moment she came to live with them, angry not just because of Niall's preference for her, but because of her very existence; not truly a Fairy, but not entirely a human either.

Why should she allow them to benefit now from the very things about her that they had always reviled? She owed them nothing! Sookie felt the deep sigh of resignation rise up and escape from her. She looked down at Eric's covered form and allowed herself one last moment of weakness, and then she made herself leave the cottage and close the door firmly on the hazy, indistinct dream of what she might have had.

She was not doing any of it for her kin. She felt no sense of duty to any of them. She knew in that moment that she did this for one reason and one reason only: because if she did not, Niall would be the one to pay the price. As deeply as his betrayal stung her, as shocked and used as she felt when she had finally understood what it was he was trying and failing to tell her, she still loved him with all her heart. He was still her grandfather, still the man who had saved her and loved her all these years. He was still the only one who understood her curse and thought it a gift, and the one who had taught her how to control it.

The Prince of his people had callously traded her for the peace, there was no denying that. But the grandfather within him still loved her dearly and she him and, for the grandfather, not for the Prince, she would do as she had been asked.

.oO~*~Oo.

Saoirse had expected the walk back to the castle to be excruciating. She had thought every step would be like walking in weighed-down shoes, every part of her attempting to pull her back to the cottage and the Vampire within it who could take her away, make her his, and protect her and love her for the rest of her life. But it was not. Much like a prisoner condemned to death, once she made the decision, she found herself carried back as if in a trance. One moment she was on the beach, the next she was in her apartments once more, watching from outside her body as Amena hurried her over to the small table to eat and then went back to her task, pulling out every one of Saoirse's dresses and assessing their appropriateness.

As the day wore on, she began to wonder when the inert feeling inside her would finally give way and she would be left weeping with despair or terror as she had the day before. As Amena pulled her up onto a small stool and ushered in the seamstresses that would measure her and work tirelessly, night and day for the next few weeks, fleshing out her wardrobe of fine things, she kept repeating the list of her woes over and over to herself in her head. Eric would leave tonight, whether to return to find her gone or to forget her and never come back. Niall, who had loved her more fiercely than any father ever loved his daughter, had traded her to their most terrifying enemy for peace. She would have to leave her home and her people forever and venture into a nightmarish place the Fae thought of as more frightening than the Humans regarded even their Hell. Yet the tears and the terror never came, even when Niall, looking disheveled and miserable, as though he had not slept in years, presented himself at her door.

He entered and stared at her, and she back at him. He apologized, or tried to. It sounded rusty on his tongue, as though he hadn't attempted such a thing in decades, or perhaps more. She only nodded, acknowledging his words but not suggesting to him that she felt they changed anything. She saw him leave and went back to her window, staring out, attempting to see in the rapidly growing darkness the figure that must be just leaving the beach and, by extension, her. She prayed that this feeling of complete nothingness would last. It might be the only thing that allowed her to survive all that was about to happen.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Hi all, back with another chapter. I'm actually really excited to finally be posting this one, it's one of my very favorites in this story. Though I'm a total sucker for the sweet moments between Eric and Sookie, I've actually really been enjoying the chance to write, what I hope is a loving grandfather/granddaughter relationship between Niall and Sookie. To that end, I gave Niall this whole chapter to try and help Sookie out, though as the story progresses we'll see that a lot of things aren't the way they initially appeared._

_I can't thank you all enough for reviewing, favorting, and putting this story on alert, it really means the world to me. _

_Thanks as always to my beta Sheknitsnicely, who is so amazing there aren't word for it!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own them…._

Niall paced the floor of the Royal apartments. The three weeks that Halbjorn had promised him were almost up and they had received an advance messenger last night, telling them that the High King's Commander at Arms and a contingent of his Vampires were already under way and would arrive in approximately two nights.

Preparations to greet Halbjorn's most fearsome and favored warrior were already finished. There would be a presentation where Niall and the Lord Commander would formally greet each other, followed by an entertainment, and then Niall would officially introduce and hand Saoirse over to the Vampire's care. All Niall needed to do now was rest, so that when the Vampires arrived he would have enough energy to cloak the entire castle in his magic, muting the scent of each and every Fairy within.

As he walked the flagstones over and over, upsetting the freshly laid rushes and sending up the scent of lavender and other herbs from under his feet, Niall attempted to convince himself that all was done, that nothing could be changed, but he could not. It would have wounded him to give any of his kinswomen over to the Vampire, but to give Saoirse…it was a pain beyond pain, one which he had already begun to suffer as, in her despair and anger, she had pulled away from him completely, withdrawing the sunshine of her love from his days and leaving him hollow and alone. He continued on as he must, meeting with his lieutenants, meeting with the King, solidifying the peace and attempting to return to his routine as the Prince in residence, re-taking many of the duties he'd been forced to delegate to others during the war, but it was all show. His zeal for it had been extinguished by the knowledge that his beloved child, though still here in body, was already gone from him.

He knew that there was no backing out of his deal with the Vampire King, and yet he felt certain that there had to be something he could do, something to ensure her safety if not her happiness. A thought pricked at the back of Niall's head, like a whispered voice whose sound he could hear, though the words remained indistinguishable. Going to the chest by the foot of his bed and unlocking it, he sifted through the contents till he came to the very bottom and the leather bound volume hidden there.

Fairy magic was a powerful thing, something that was taken lightly only at the expense of the person who treated it so. It was dangerous to play with, to use when one had not the experience, and yet his mind told him the answer was here. He had explained to Saoirse often when she was young, when he had still the hope that she might be more Fairy than she appeared, before she matured and he was forced to accept that, though gifted, she would never have true Fairy magic, that there was a difference between the innate magical abilities that all Fairies possessed, such as their ability to form light from within, or to wield light magic as a weapon, or Niall's own given ability to mask his scent, and the ability to channel the essence of magic, to create spells, to charm objects, or to influence or control people. There was the magic that simply was, and which all full Fairies possessed, and the magic that could be.

Any Fairy could use their given magic to do the things they had been gifted to do, but to tap into the very essence of magic and manipulate it, that was special. Only a few Humans, witches, could do it, and only a few more Fairies. Niall had been able to do this only on rare occasions, never having had the time as a leader and then a warrior to fully learn the art of it, but his mother had been adept at it, and it was to her book of secrets that he now turned.

Flipping through the pages, he read quickly, attempting to find anything that would help him help his granddaughter this one last time. As Niall touched the pages, he felt something within him connecting to something in the wrinkled, weakening volume and, almost as if by accident, the book seemed to fall open to a page near the very end. Understanding somehow that this was no accident, he read the page carefully, his heart hammering away as he did so. Yes, this might work. It could not save Saoirse from her fate of becoming Halbjorn's wife, but it might make her a wife in the true sense and not just an object, or worse, a meal. Would Fae magic work on a Vampire? Could their dead bodies even feel the same things as those of the living? He had no idea but, left with so few choices, he knew that he would risk it.

As he gathered and manipulated the ingredients he would need, his mind wandered from one thing to another. He remembered picking flowers with her as a small girl, teaching her the history of their people, laughing with pride and joy as she tried and finally succeeded in learning the Fairy tongue, which was magical and beautiful but extremely difficult if not spoken from birth. He remembered the discovery of her gift and his tremendous shock at it, and helping her learn to control it. As his mind wandered farther and farther back, he remembered the day that he had found her and the pain, anger and agony that had ripped through him as he had come across the burnt bodies and destroyed houses. He had not for a moment on that day, when he'd found her, understood what she would mean to him, or that such a small, fragile, Human creature could ever command his heart as she did. But he knew now, looking back over the years that he had been lost to her and the power she had over him from the very first moment that he had seen her….

_Niall had no idea how he knew. There was no warning alarm, no cry had gone up as, where his son had fled, there was little of anything, but he knew that something was wrong. The feeling of urgency seemed to crawl up his spine, starting as an unpleasant tingle and ending as a painful hammering at his brain. Lidan would be here any minute to confer further about the war and their plans for an assault directly on Upsala. He knew he could not leave and yet everything within him was telling him that if he did not get to his son now, something terrible would happen._

_Indecision warred within him only for a moment more and then he barked to his page to summon Dermot. His younger son came at a run, assuming that Niall had changed his mind and wished him to sit in on his council with the King._

"_Do you feel it?" He asked, before the servant had even closed the door behind Dermot._

"_Feel what? Where is the King?" Niall felt the tingle grow again, becoming more painful. Fintan was calling to him, it could be nothing else._

"_Something is wrong, your brother is in need." Niall saw Dermot's face change expression, from questioning to angry._

"_He has no right to need us any longer. He has made his decision and now he must live with it." Yes, Niall could never accuse Dermot of being anything less than a Fairy, despite his half Human blood. He had been raised a Fairy and he would always put them first, willfully ignoring the other half of himself to be accepted. Niall felt again the turmoil and guilt that his decisions had brought on his children. They should not have had to choose between one part of themselves and the other, and yet this war had laid the lines clearly, and Dermot had fallen in where he was expected to. That his brother had chosen the other path was a pain that Dermot had turned early on into a hatred, despising his brother being far easier than missing him._

"_He simply made the same choice that I did, to follow where his heart led him." Dermot scoffed at his father. The choice was not the same. When the King had decreed that Fairies could no longer mate with Humans, when the necessity to keep the blood pure had been ordered, Niall had given up his Human lover and taken his children with him, where they would be happiest and safest. He had shown the strength and courage that a leader must and put his own desires aside for the greater good of his people._

_Fintan was nothing like their father. He had willingly and willfully chosen a Human in defiance of everything and everyone, and when it was discovered that she was pregnant by him, he had acknowledged it proudly and refused to give her up. In the end he had taken the weak and cowardly way out and given up his right to lead his people after his father, to live like a Human and a peasant, all for the love of a girl. Yet even now, even after they had not seen each other in forty years, even after he had disgraced his family in general and his father specifically, Niall still thought of him, worried after him and loved him. It made Dermot's rage all the brighter and hotter._

_He had done everything his father had ever asked him, been the one to bear the role of Heir without complaint, though it should have been his brother's, to fight by Niall's side and command his armies though he thought the war a mistake and argued as much as possible for its conclusion. He had married a woman he did not love in order to bear more children of the blood, and yet it was still Fintan that his father loved the most. Dermot could see that fighting with his father was useless. He might be the perfect son to others, the one to do all that was asked of him, but it was disloyal Fintan that Niall loved the best, perhaps all the more so because Fintan had done what neither he nor Niall had ever believed they had the right to do: to turn his back on everything and walk away._

"_You will go to him then?" Dermot asked, though he already knew the answer. Niall only nodded and turned to gather his sword from its resting place above the huge fireplace that took up an entire wall of the Royal apartments._

"_You will make my excuses to the King. Tell him what you wish, but do not tell him where I have really gone." With that, Niall called for Rival to gather a contingent of men._

_Within another few minutes, they were gone in a burst of light, only to rematerialize a quarter of a mile from the group of structures that had been the farmhouses of Fintan's family. The small structures were made of mud bricks and thatched roofs that barely kept out the cold, the surrounding land being farmed by Fintan himself and his son, grandson, and his daughter's husband. The entirety of the place screamed that there was nothing of interest to be found here, just another collection of poor, nearly starving peasants trying to get enough food from the land to live._

_The place always made Niall angry. That a son of his, a Prince of the Fae, should choose to live here was shameful and yet, every time he did come here, he felt further admiration for his son, who had chosen to live for love rather than for duty._

_Today though, shame was the farthest thing from his mind. The roofs of the hovels were still burning, the smell of char and the stench of death filling the air. Niall, Rival and their men made their way stealthily towards the desolation, but there was nothing left to threaten them. Niall could clearly see that the time he had spent on indecision had cost those here mightily. As they fanned out, attempting to put together the sequence of events that had led to this, Niall came upon the one body he hoped desperately not to see. It was not bleeding, its face was not frozen in a mask of fear and terror; it had almost no face at all anymore. Niall bent, studying what remained of the flaking body of his son, the one and only Fairy body amongst the many more bleeding and mutilated corpses of Fintan's family._

_The pain brought him to his knees. He was too late, too late to save any of them, too late to prevent this, too late to say goodbye. Fintan would never know that Niall had forgiven him long ago, if there had ever been anything to forgive, and he would never know how desperately his father missed him, or how much he had loved him. And these people, his kin, even if not a man who had come with him would admit to that, he had owed them his protection and his care and he had failed to provide It, even if they were in ignorance of his debt to them. As his tears fell over his son's body, Niall became aware of a movement in the tall grass a few yards away._

_Anger flared where only grief had been before. Perhaps one of the attackers still remained? If one had been so stupid, they would regret not having fled for many, many days to come. Straightening up and drawing his sword, Niall commanded the figure in the grass to rise and show itself._

_The Prince's bloodlust left him in a rush to be replaced by the most acute surprise. No attacker or perpetrator hid in the grass. The little thing that stood to her feet now was barely taller than the greenery that surrounded her, the tears streaking her face leaving tracks of white through an otherwise filthy, dirt covered face. The child stood trembling before him, sobs uncontrollably falling from her tiny lips. With real shame, Niall realized that she was terrified of him and quickly lowered his sword._

"_I will not harm you." He said slowly, with as much gentleness as he could muster. "Come here." Dropping the sword completely, Niall bent down low and extended his hand to the child. She stared at it for several long moments before cautiously taking the first steps towards him. When her tiny hand finally reached his, Niall grasped it firmly, staring directly into the vivid, clear blue of her eyes. Even tear stained and covered in dirt, he could see at once the child was beautiful and beautiful in a way that no mere Human could be. The Fairy in her was slight, but there; he could see it and feel it as well. "You live here?" Niall asked softly, hoping that his gentle tone would further calm the child. The little girl nodded and pointed to the nearly disintegrated form of Fintan._

"_That's my granddad." She said, her voice breaking once again and more tears coursing down her face. Just then, Rival came up behind them. Niall could see the little girl try to cower away, but her hand was still in his and he held it firmly._

"_My Lord, there are no other survivors. The Humans are all accounted for and all dead." Niall once again nodded his head, acknowledging Rival's words, but his eyes stayed firmly on the child. She was the only survivor then, his last and only link to his son. Again, he felt the anguish of knowing that he would never be able to say the things that so badly needed saying between them. He had always hoped that, when Fintan's woman died, he might return, that they might finally make peace, but that hope was dead with the others now. Yet this little one survived._

"_How is it that you live?" He asked her. The little girl looked again at her grandfather's body and then back at Niall._

"_I was picking flowers." She replied in a small voice._

"_Did you see anyone? Did you see the ones who did this?" The girl shook her head, more tears falling._

"_I want my mama." The little thing said brokenly. Niall stared at her for one more moment before his decision was made. Gathering her into his arms and stroking her back through the rough homespun wool of her dress, he picked her up._

"_She cannot be with you any longer child, none of them can." The child sobbed harder, wrapping her little arms around his neck and burying her face in the curve of his shoulder. Niall could feel the tears wet his clothes and knew that a healthy dose of dirt was clinging to him too, but truthfully he did not care. He would never have the chance to make things right with Fintan- that was undeniable now- but he could still do what his son would have wanted of him, he could still honor his son and his memory. "Do you know who I am, child?" He asked, gently pulling her head out of his neck and forcing her to look at him again. _

"_No sir." She answered, with the honest sincerity that only a child can possess. Niall smiled at her. The smile was the first genuine one he had given to another in longer than he could remember and he saw the child leave off her tears and respond with a weak one of her own._

"_I am your great grandfather. You will come with me now, child, and I will care for you." The child nodded, laying her head back down on his shoulder and tightening the grip of her tiny arms around his neck. "What is your name?" He said as he began to walk, still holding her, back to his men._

"_Sookie." She replied. Niall frowned. It was a peasant's name. It would never do._

"_I am a Prince child and as you are my great granddaughter that makes you a Princess. I will take you home to my lovely castle where there will be other children for you to play with and good food for you to eat. But if you are to be a Princess you must have a name fit for one." The child made no response, only snuggled into his shoulder. Niall thought for a moment. "What do you think of Saoirse?" He asked her. The child again said nothing, instead snuggling impossibly closer to her newfound protector. "It means freedom, and I think it perfect for you." _

_Just as the Prince was rounding the burnt out cottage, Rival came running back up to him, a scrap of cloth in his hand. Niall again felt the anger well within him when Rival was close enough for him to truly see the fabric. The anger this time was far stronger than before, as it now had a direction and a target, and it soon became not just anger but murderous rage. _

"_I found it on the sword point of one of the men. There is no other Fairy body though, so it appears the wound was not mortal." Rival explained._

"_It matters not, it soon will be!" Niall's men gathered and, clutching the child close to him, they disappeared in a burst of light to rematerialize in the courtyard of the castle. "Go gather up the men, we will leave as soon as I have informed the King!" Niall barked out, his rage escalating as he thought of all the things he would do when he got his hands on the bastard. Taking the stone steps two at a time, Niall climbed to his apartments. Seeing the Pages standing at his door, he called out to them. "Is the King still here?" The Page looked startled by Niall's sudden appearance, straightening his stance and holding his spear tighter._

"_Yes my Lord, he is still within with Prince Dermot." The page confirmed._

"_Then open the door man, and quick!" Niall hissed out. The Page fumbled with the door, clearly frightened by the Prince's sudden and deadly mood. Still carrying the child, Niall reached the door before the page had it opened and shoved the boy to the side, opening it for himself. Dermot and Lidan both sprang to their feet when they saw Niall, covered in dirt and carrying the small bundle of a little girl in his arms._

"_Niall, what is the meaning of his?" Lidan asked, sounding more offended than intrigued. Niall only scowled in return._

"_I demand justice, my King." Niall said, holding out the partial scrap of fabric for Lidan to examine. Lidan's eyebrows leapt high into his hairline._

"_Why do you have a piece of Breandan's livery and what is that?" Lidan questioned, gesturing with the fabric to the child. Niall felt his arms band more tightly around the little girl, who was now sleeping in his arms, her day of terror and trauma having given way to exhaustion once she knew she was safe._

"_This is my great granddaughter, Fintan's grandchild. She was the only one left alive at his home. The others were slaughtered, the houses burnt, and this left on one of their swords. It is Breandan's doing." Niall knew that he need not tell Lidan why it had been done. Breandan's hatred of those with mixed Human blood was notorious, and his hatred of Niall and all of Niall's family was infamous. They had been at odds, almost to the point of open civil war, since long before the war with the Vampires had begun. Breandan hated Humans, he hated Vampires, he hated anything that was not pure Fairy, and he desired to rid himself of Niall and Niall's line so that there was nothing standing between him and the throne except Lidan, who he could control. But this…this was beyond anything Niall had ever dreamed the other Fairy capable of: the wholesale slaughter of his family members simply to goad Niall into a battle. _

_Lidan looked down at the scrap of fabric in Niall's hand. It was entirely possible that someone had framed his favored lieutenant, entirely possible that the Vampires had somehow arranged all this to plunge the Fae into civil war and thereby divide the enemy. Judging by the barely contained murder seething out of Niall's eyes, it would have been an excellent plan. However, he knew that it was nothing of the sort. He knew Breandan well enough to know that this was no rouse. He knew Niall just as well. Eventually, one day, it would come down to war between the two of them and their followers. If it had not been assured before, Breandan had just guaranteed it. Yet he could not and would not allow this now. He needed these two. They were fighting an external enemy, one they could only defeat if they all fought together. He could not let factions devolve into infighting, no matter who had been killed. Steeling himself, he looked Niall straight in the eye, allowing the Prince to feel his King's authority._

"_You will seek no retribution for this." Lidan stated simply. The rage in Niall's face fell away, to be replaced by shock so severe that Lidan wondered if Niall would be able to stay standing._

"_My Lord…." Niall began, but was cut off by Lidan turning and throwing the scrap of fabric still in his hand onto the fire._

"_We are fighting a war. We do not have time for petty squabbles. Besides, I would not lose the life of one full Fairy for even a hundred Human or mostly Human ones, no matter what their rank." Lidan emphasized the last word as Niall heard his King in stunned silence. "If it pleases you, keep the child, raise her any way you like, but my command has been given, Niall. There will be no retribution." With that, Lidan turned and left Niall, Dermot and the child without another word…_

As Niall held the small flask in front of him, he attempted to bury the feelings of rage that still lived within him these fifteen years later. For his duty to his people he had lost first his Human lover and then both of his sons. For his duty to his people he had allowed their deaths to go unpunished and, for his duty to his people, he was about to lose his granddaughter, the last link he had to Fintan.

Though Fintan now lived in the Summerlands with Dermot and the rest of their kin, he could feel acutely his son's anger and sense of betrayal. He had failed Fintan, first by allowing him to be banished for not giving up his Human wife, and then for failing to come to their defense when Breandan had slaughtered them as a taunt to goad Niall in to war. But always, always he had hoped that his love of Saoirse could help him atone for these mistakes.

He admitted to himself freely, in the solitude of his apartments, that guilt had been his only reason for taking her in the beginning, and guilt remained the only reason he had paid any attention to her during those first few months she lived here.

He had assigned her a worthy nurse from among his Human servants, a sturdy woman who had recently lost her own child to the diseases that so commonly plagued the weak and fragile Humans. With a sense of relief, he had seen for himself that the woman had transferred her considerable affections to the child and he had been prepared to leave it at that, letting Amena care for her and expecting that he would have little more do to with her than providing her with everything the considerable wealth of a Fae Prince could, and no more. It was what he had done for his own children and for their children.

The day that it all had changed was etched in his mind permanently. She had come to him alone, small and awkward in her new finery, approaching him softly as he read in front of his fire. He had no idea how she had escaped Amena nor how she found his chambers, since the only other time she'd been here she had been asleep in his arms. He was positive that she had charmed the guard into letting her in, though, and he was taken by her bravery. Without preamble she had climbed up into his lap, wrapped her small arms around his neck and asked with her wide, blue guileless eyes, for him to read to her.

It was such a simple thing, and yet he could never remember any of his other children or grandchildren having done it. They were all raised with proper deference to his station, with proper manners regarding how royalty must behave. They would never dream of sneaking away from their nurses and, even if they did, they would never follow that escape by coming to him, climbing him like a tree, and demanding anything of him. Saoirse had been raised with no such barriers, and she blithely and innocently demanded of him what none of the others would; true, honest and real affection. The boldness, the brazenness of her demand, had shocked him so much that he had acceded without complaint, giving her first a story and then a cuddle, and then a decade and a half of love without so much as a word of protest.

It was that boundless love for her that he now used to summon the magic within him and infuse the tiny vial. It was the only ingredient of the spell he had woven that was variable. If done correctly it might save her, if done wrongly it could be ineffective or even harm her, but he had to do it… he had to try. When the force of his magic was at its fullest, he finished the spell with the binding command, the instructions that would release the magic when it was needed and hopefully save his granddaughter.

Niall did not just desire to keep Saoirse safe, he desired for her to be happy. All their life together he had wished it, yet it never happened. She had lived these fifteen years as an outcast among her own kin with only he and Amena to love her. He knew that she had always wished for the love of her other family, but that there was an even greater wish within her; the wish to find the love of a mate. It had broken his heart when he'd seen her staring at Coleman and Ceiridwyn and he had felt himself helpless, incapable of finding a Fairy to bond with her. Perhaps now he could give her this thing she had always wanted. He would infuse the potion not with protective magic, but with the magic of Love and, when Saoirse drank it and Halbjorn then drank of her, it was Niall's greatest hope that he would fall in love with her and she with him. And so he spoke the words of command that he hoped would bring about his wish for his granddaughter.

"Love shall be created, unbreakable and undeniable, when they who drink this potion let the Vampire to whom they belong drink of them." The liquid in the vial began to glow like a tiny shard of sunlight as the magic within Niall flowed into it and was bound by his command. When the vial again took on its normal appearance, Niall stopped it with small cork and walked to the door, opening it and turning to the page there.

"Call the Princess Saoirse to my chambers." He instructed. As Niall waited, he again locked the book away and tidied the room. Only a few minutes passed before the door to his outer chamber was opened and Saoirse entered. Her face was neutral and her eyes lifeless. Even as she appeared before him, beautiful in the finery that he loved so much for her to wear, he knew her spirit was faltering.

"Child, come here." He commanded softly, taking his great seat before the fire and holding out his hand to her. She looked at him warily, the expression so similar to the one she'd worn on that horrid day all those years ago that it broke his heart. Yet, after a moment, she came obediently and kneeled down in front him. There was so much he wished to say to her, so many regrets and sorrows he wished to give voice to, but he knew, even in his guilt, that she could not absolve him of the majority of them, no matter how much she might have wished to only scant weeks ago.

Instead he held out the vial to her. He saw the question cross her face as she picked it up between her delicate fingers and examined it. She brought the vial cautiously to her nose and pulled back in surprise when even her Human senses detected the heavy scent of strong magic.

"What is this?" She asked, her eyes still firmly planted on the vial.

"I cannot take back my pledge to Halbjorn, though I wish I could, but no more can I sit by and allow you to go into a nightmare unprotected and alone. I have made this for you. Drink it before you lay with Halbjorn and he will fall in love with you and you with him. Vampires are unlike any other creatures in this realm or the others, so I do not know how he will react to this potion, but it is my sincere hope that, if he loves you, he will protect and honor you above all other things. As to you loving him, I know that true love is the thing you have always desired above anything else, and I hope that it will bring you the happiness I always wished for you to have but which you could not find here. If you must go to this being, then I wish you to find joy in it, which loving him would bring." He knew his explanation of his hopes and his reasons had been lacking, but he could not make his mouth give form to the emotions that swirled in his heart, or the hopes and dreams he wished to make real for his most beloved child. He only hoped that she would understand and use his gift.

Saoirse looked deep into her grandfather's eyes as he attempted to explain to her why he had given her this gift. His words were muddled, but as always the waves of his emotions flowed into her mind and heart and she felt his deep and true desire that something good might be made of the bad that had happened. He could not know that she had already found and lost true love; all he knew was that no Fairy would ever have her and no Human would ever be worthy. He wanted to give her the thing she could never have here and keep her safe in her new life as the wife of his bitter enemy. A single tear slid down her cheek as she clutched the potion to her chest. She had no words to thank him for what he had just done for her, so instead she wrapped her arms around her grandfather for the first time in three weeks and held him close.

Niall felt the shock run through him as Saoirse's arms wended their way around him for the first time in so long, but it was quickly replaced by a deep contentment as he again felt the warmth of her love. Petting her long, golden hair and holding her close he prayed to the fates and to the gods of every religion that his spell might work and that his child might find happiness in this new life that had been thrust upon her.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Happy 4__th__! Okay so fab news. I'm so honored, I've been asked to be a part of the Author's spotlight and chat about my stories with the lovely Fangreaders! The chat is scheduled for Saturday July 9__th__ at 8 pm GMT. I'm over the moon and hope y'all will join me! Their totally awesome site is at: fangreaders(dot) blogspot (dot) com_

_With that I have only to bow before the awesomeness that is my beta Sheknitsnicely- who is the coolest chicky in the world. She gives me the best advice, calls me on the cheesiness, and she makes this story legible! (You don't want to know what these chapters look like when she first sees them) I love you!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…._

The boats docking on the beach were visible from the east wing of the Castle and Saoirse felt the exact moment when they made land. The sun was just reaching its midday position when a frightened hush had fallen over hundreds of minds almost at once. The silence had lasted for only a few seconds or so before there was a volcanic eruption of bleak emotions. The Humans, most of them Christian, began to pray to their God to protect them. The Fairy minds were, of course, more opaque to her, but she felt both anger and terror, sometimes from the same minds, and the dark anxiety pinged back and forth in Saoirse's brain like a pendulum, leaving her filled with dread when it reached one end, and trembling with rage when it swung back to the other.

It was still many hours till sunset, but Saoirse found herself nearly paralyzed at the window, watching the boats with trepidatious curiosity. There were three of them: the largest boat, which she believed to be Halbjorn's personal vessel, was wide and luxurious with a canopied pavilion, which was probably the entrance to the King's quarters; the other two were smaller long ships, designed to protect the main vessel. The Humans aboard, the servants of the Vampires, bustled about docking the ships and making the largest boat ready for her arrival during the night. Even now, she could see them being cautiously greeted by a delegation from the castle, bearing the majority of her and Amena's belongings.

She was not sure how long she stood watching the movements on the beach, but at length she felt Amena come up behind her, placing a thick arm around her shoulders and prodding her gently away. With one last glance out of the casement, Saoirse turned to her nurse and the two shared a long, understanding gaze. Life here might not have always been happy, it might not have always been all that either of them would have hoped for, but it was safe and constant. After tonight it would be gone, possibly forever. From now on, the only thing that either of them could count on, the only constant either of them would have, was each other.

"Come, let's get to dressing you. If we're to be safe, then they must see from the start that you are worth keeping." Amena's words were solemn and grave, and Saoirse once again marveled at the unseen depths of her caretaker. Amena always saw far deeper than most, far deeper than people gave her credit for, down to the very heart of the matter. And Saoirse could not help but agree with her nurse's assessment of the situation: being Royal, being only part Fairy, neither of these things was a guarantee of her safety. If she was to survive her 'marriage' she would need to make her continued existence as attractive as possible, and that meant making her first impression count, even if it was not on Halbjorn himself.

Amena helped Saoirse pin up her long hair and remove her normal plain wool dress and shift, guiding her charge up on to the dressing stool. Over the course of the next hours, they worked together wordlessly to make Saoirse's final transition from human girl to Fairy Princess to future Vampire Queen.

Just as they were finishing, a knock at the door halted their efforts. Calling for the unexpected visitor to enter, Saoirse watched as Niall walked through the door, a wrapped parcel in his hands.

Niall stopped short just as the page at the door finished closing it. He, like most of the others, had seen the boats arrive and now, as the hour drew nearer, he felt the need to see her one last time, in private. He would not omit the opportunity, one which had been impossible with both of his sons, to say a real goodbye. What he found when he entered the room though, was astonishing. His granddaughter had seemingly disappeared, and in her place stood a woman of such beauty, such incredible light, that he was awestruck. It made him feel all the more assured of the rightness of the gift he had brought her.

"What think you, your Highness?" Amena asked, her voice serious and appraising, with just a tiny hint of satisfaction sneaking through. Niall again looked at Saoirse. Her gown was of the finest silk in a blue color, just a shade or two darker than her eyes and embroidered at the sleeves and hem with gold thread. The shift underneath, which peaked out an extra inch at the hem and from her elbows to her wrists, was of lovely white linen that seemed to shine in the waning light of the day. Amena had left her hair to flow freely down her back and past her waist and it ran down in lovely golden waves. To this, Amena was just adding a veil of the most gossamer texture, in the same color as Saoirse's dress.

"I think she misses something." Niall said simply, walking up to the two women and handing Saoirse the wrapped bundle. Saoirse's eyebrow went high into her hair as she took the object from him and slowly began to unwrap it. When it was finally free of the cloth he heard her gasp.

"Grandfather…." Niall gave her a forlorn smile. He had meant for some time to give it to her, had always planned on it being a wedding present for her when he found her the perfect Fairy male to bond with. It sent one more pang of pain through him to know that his wish had been but half answered.

"This was your great, great grandmother's. She was a beautiful and brave Princess of our house. Of all my kinswomen it is you, more than any of the others, who reminds me of her. I believe she would approve of my choice that you should wear it." Niall nodded to Amena, and the nurse placed the veil over Saoirse's hair. Once it was arranged properly, Niall took back the gift from Soairse's hands and placed it on her head.

Stepping back slightly, Niall admired it. His mother's simple crown, a gold circlet encrusted with sapphires, was the perfect compliment to his granddaughter's gown, as if it had been made for it; made for her.

"You look like the night sky," he said, in final verdict, "like the moon, the stars, and the dark heavens surrounding them all at once." The very thing to enthrall a pack of Vampires, he added bitterly to himself. Saoirse stepped down from the stool and walked over to him, her gown and veil floating around her.

"Promise me you will not forget me… once I am gone?" She begged, looking him straight in the eyes, her voice small and filled with sorrow. Niall took both of her hands in his own, and kissed each.

"You have been my joy when there was nothing but sorrow, my light when there was nothing but darkness, my constant pride when all else was shame. I have failed you in so many ways, child, though I never intended to, but I swear to you, I have never loved another as I have loved you. You will be with me until I walk this earth no more!" Returning her searching gaze with a determined one of his own, he finished. "It is you who must not forget me, or who you are, or from whom you come, child." He felt the tears stinging the back of his eyes, but he refused to allow them to fall. His was not the true sacrifice this night; he would not allow his pity for himself to overcome him, or to give in to the comfort that his granddaughter would no doubt give him if he did. It was she and she alone who deserved whatever comfort there was to be had this day.

"I promise, I will not." Saoirse answered him quietly, wrapping her arms around her grandfather for what she was sure would be the last time. She felt his arms come around her as well, just as the trumpets began to blare. The sun had set. The Vampires would be here shortly.

.oO~*~Oo.

The great hall fell silent as the doors swung open. There were twenty-five of them in total, all tall, broadly muscled and armed. Niall watched from his throne as they moved in unison, a well-disciplined unit. It seemed that Halbjorn had sent only his most dedicated and able warriors as an escort for his bride.

It both pleased and disturbed him that, at the head of this group, walked Halbjorn's Commander at Arms, the leader of his entire army and his most feared fighter. It pleased Niall because he knew that, provided his mission was truly to protect Saoirse, she would be safer with no other Vampire. However it worried him because this Vampire, above all the others, was a murderer of Niall's people, devoid of conscience or the slightest bit of compassion. He had gained his position at a relatively young age, but he made up for his youth with an astonishing battle prowess, a keen strategic mind and an absolute, blood thirsty viciousness. The mere thought that this accursed creature was now his honored guest rankled Niall to the core.

That he walked in at the head of his men, his stride wide and cocky, his long golden hair streaming behind him, arrogant and self-assured, staring straight at Niall with complete confidence that his men would ferret out a trap or a threat and overcome it, even on an entire island of Fae, only served to raise Niall's ire all the more.

"My Lord, you and your men are most welcome to my home." Niall called out, standing from his chair and stepping one step down on the dais, so that He and the Lord Commander were at eye level from their few paces apart.

Niall watched the sides of the Commander's mouth tick upward just slightly in an ironic smirk, one of his golden eyebrows reaching into his hairline. It was obvious that he knew Niall's words of forced hospitality were a lie, and all the more obvious that he felt being here, to take one of Niall's kinswomen off like a raider carrying away his spoils, was immensely gratifying. After a long moment, the Commander inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement of the Prince's words.

"I come in peace, your Highness, and have been sworn to protect my Queen and deliver her safely to my Lord, her husband the King." The words came out cool and emotionless, though the Commander had to admit some base curiosity at the prospect of meeting this mostly Human, Fairy Princess who would soon become a Vampire Queen. He could not regret having missed the peace negotiations, but he wondered now if his King's little joke would not backfire on him.

"I thank you for that." Niall said tersely. "Come my Lord and sit, we shall entertain you a while as the final preparations are being made." Niall gestured to the large chair next to his own and the Lord Commander again smiled his arrogant smile as took it, gracefully sprawling his long frame into it.

No sooner had they sat, the Commander's men taking the trestle table closest to the dais, than Niall had motioned for his servants to bring the living wine and his guests blood, though sadly (in the Commander's opinion) only Human blood.

As the Humans bustled about, Niall made small talk, which the Commander nodded and made the appropriate responses to, but all the while Niall could see that he was distracted. Niall followed his gaze as it bounced from one serving girl to the next, examining her quickly, seemingly dismissing her, and moving on to the next. What the Vampire could be thinking he knew not, but it left him feeling uneasy. Finally, after assuring the Commander that the first payment of tribute was being transferred aboard the ship already, Niall's curiosity got the better of him.

"Are you looking for someone, my Lord?" He asked roughly, the annoyance clear in his voice. The Vampire looked back at him for the first time in some moments and smiled in a way that seemed almost wistful.

"Indeed Highness. After you have presented the Princess to me, I wish to have a moment of your time in private. I have a…boon to ask of you." Niall knew the astonishment was plainly written on his face. He saw at once, through the cloud of his own surprise, a deep longing within the eyes of his enemy. "I am of course prepared to compensate you for what I ask." With that, the Vampire turned away, suddenly deeply interested in the contents of his cup.

When it could be put off no more, Niall again signaled for silence and stood.

"My Lord Commander, as a binding of the peace I give my great granddaughter, her Royal Highness, the Princess Saoirse Brigant, as bride to your master, King Halbjorn. I now formally remand her to your protection and to her husband, your King." With that, the doors to the great hall were again opened and, flanked only by Amena, Saoirse made her way to the throne, her head held high, her eyes clear and bright, though he suspected she was not truly looking at anything. Niall prepared himself for these final moments and made ready to take her hand and give her over, but just as he attempted to calm himself enough to do so, several things happened at once.

The first was a loud crashing noise from his side, as the Lord Commander bolted upright from his chair, the speed and force with which he did so causing it to hurtle to the ground and break into several pieces. The second was Saoirse herself stopping mid step and letting out a small gasp that was both surprised and frightened. The third event followed the first two within a mere second, and that was every other being in the room, both Vampire and Fairy, leaving their seats and coming to strained attention. Hands went to swords, postures changed from relaxed to battle ready, and the air in the room began to crackle with tension. For a long and terrifying moment nothing in the hall moved, not even the breeze.

Niall looked to his right to see the Vampire Commander at Arms now only a pace or two away from him, straining to hold himself still with a control that Niall could feel rolling off him. His gaze, which had ceaselessly roamed from one servant girl to the next only moments before, was now fixed on one position, the look in his eyes clearly betraying first astonished surprise, then deep pain and finally, the rawest form of anger. When Niall followed his heated stare he found that it was planted squarely on Saoirse.

In return, he could see his granddaughter's entire form screaming shock. Her eyes, which had been so bright and proud only moments before, now shone with disbelief, fear, and despair, and a single tear began to slide its way down her face.

Niall had no idea what the cause of this sudden turmoil was, but he knew it needed to be defused immediately or there would be bloodshed. Standing ever straighter, but keeping his hand well away from the hilt of his sword, he let his voice ring out clear and authoritative through the hall.

"Child, come." Niall felt the moment the tension eased, if only slightly, from the room. Saoirse seemed to take a moment to hear him but finally, with steps now filled with dread, she made her way to him slowly. When finally she reached the platform, Niall took her hand gently but firmly and pulled her up to stand beside him. "My Lord, I formally present you to my great granddaughter, your future Queen, the Princess Saoirse. Child, this is his Majesty, King Halbjorn's Commander at Arms, the Lord Eric." Niall pulled Saoirse forward and himself took a single step back.

Niall watched, his confusion beginning to overpower him, as the two simply stared at each other for a long moment. They seemed to be saying something to each other without the use of words and it deeply, deeply worried him. Then, just as suddenly, the moment and the tension completely drained from the room as the Lord Commander bowed deeply.

"My Queen," He began, through what Niall could tell were clenched teeth. It looked as though he meant to say more but then, without another word, the Commander straightened, gave Saoirse one last cold look and began to walk out of the Hall, leaving his men and the Princess in astonished confusion.

After a moment more, Halbjorn's Lieutenant, Wallace, moved to the dais and extended his arm to escort the Princess from the hall and to the ship. Saoirse, her eyes now wet with tears, turned to look one last time at Niall and then allowed herself to be led out, Amena and the other Vampires following behind.

.oO~*~Oo.

He flew through the halls of the castle, caring nothing for the Humans who barely even saw him pass by. He had to be out of here, had to be free of this place, or he would kill the next person he saw. The pain was unbearable and he felt it right where the bite had been, right over his heart, right where she had healed it.

When he found a casement big enough, he flung himself out of it, taking to the sky, orienting himself quickly and landing on the beach, just before the old cottage.

The memories of the last two weeks came flooding back to him, taunting him with his foolishness. He remembered returning to Upsala, to be greeted with stunned relief by his King and mentor. Halbjorn had been unhappy that Eric's mission to assassinate Niall had failed, but it had been a long shot to begin with, and now that peace had been made, Halbjorn was simply glad to have his right hand back at his side.

He remembered how Halbjorn had laughed indulgently at him when Eric had told him of his adventure on the isle of the Fairies. And he'd seen his King's surprise, hurt and worry, when he'd begged to be released from his oath, so that he might return to Ireland, retrieve the girl, and take her back to his home. Halbjorn had categorically denied his desire to leave, plainly telling Eric that he needed him now as much as ever. The war was over and that left hundreds of Vampires in his capital alone, as well as throughout the north, with nothing to do and no one to vent their lust for violence on. Until such time as the rulers who owed him fealty where ready to take back sovereignty of their lands, he needed his Commander at Arms to help him keep the peace.

But Halbjorn, always fond of him after their many adventures together, had given him hope. He explained to Eric all that had happened, and his intention to send him to retrieve the Princess Saoirse from Niall. If Eric so wished, he could take the opportunity to find the girl and buy her from the Prince, or from whoever else, and bring her back with him. Eric knew that, at least for now, his desire to return home would have to be shelved, but he felt happiness just at the idea of returning for Sookie. He was respected and heeded here, no one would dare touch what was his: she would be safe and he would begin to give her all the things she had lacked in her life. They could still be together.

All through the long nights of his journey back to Ireland, he had thought of nothing but her: returning to her, taking her away from the poverty and dirt in which she lived, truly and finally making her his. He had allowed himself to live in an idyllic day dream for days, and in the end it had all been a lie. There was no Sookie.

He thought back to that moment, only a few minutes past, though it felt like it had been ages ago, when the doors to the hall had been flung wide and she'd entered. At first he thought his eyes lied to him. Her face, her figure, her hair, they were all the same, but gone were the ragged woolen dresses, so patched and mended they could hardly be said to be a single color anymore; gone were the tiny bare feet, perpetually covered in sand and gone was the sad, sweet look of innocence and care that had bewitched him so utterly.

In their place were the raiment and bearing of a Princess. Her head was adorned with precious jewels, her figure covered by the finest clothes in the hardest to obtain colors, even her feet where different, shod in fine leather slippers.

At first he hadn't understood, hadn't realized what it all meant, but when she'd come just close enough for her scent to confirm what his eyes could not believe, he knew. She had lied to him. She was no servant, no poor orphaned creature. She had played with him for her own amusement, lying about her name, lying about her family, and he had fallen for all of it. He'd let her in deeper and farther than any being had ever been and he'd allowed himself to be weak and vulnerable before her. He'd behaved like a stupid, pathetic, pimpled teenager sodden with love.

The mere thought of it disgusted him and the disgust quickly turned to hatred and rage. How she must be laughing at him right now! She had probably known who he was all along: unlike her he hadn't lied about his very name. The anger demanded an outlet and he let himself vent it on the cottage, destroying the scene of his weakness and stupidity, wishing that, by eradicating it from this earth, he could eradicate the memory of his repulsive frailty.

Rotted timber by rotted timber, the thing came down, till there was nothing left but a pile of debris. But there was no satisfaction in it, no relief: the destruction had been too easy. Yet the thing still remained and he could not have that. As he stared at the ruined heap of wood, he remembered how magical he had thought her voice, how angelic her face, how divine her blood. He remembered holding her chastely in his arms and allowing himself to feel emotions that no Vampire, no matter how young or foolish, should ever succumb to.

With an enraged scream he remembered their last night together, when he had given himself just a taste of her divine body but held himself back. When he had allowed her to keep her virginity, deeming his goddess worthy of nothing less than his deepest respect and care. He remembered how he'd intended to wait until after they had fully bonded to finally have her, completely. It was that thought, more than any other, that caused him to create the fire, to burn the remains of this place off of the face of the earth forever.

He should have just fucked her like the lying, deceitful whore she was. He should have fucked her and drained her and left her corpse here, in this shack, to rot until her precious grandfather came looking for her.

Eric watched until the flames had consumed everything, attempting to convince himself that they took his longings with them and, when it had burned down to nothing more than a pile of ash, he returned to the ship.

He could smell quite clearly that she was already here, that she had been on the deck not very long ago. He hoped that she had watched him burn it down. He hoped that it had hurt her, even a little bit, to lose her little sanctuary. Even if it hurt her a great deal it could not begin to approach the pain and the betrayal he felt. A week, an entire week, trapped here on this tiny wooden hell with her. Perhaps he would be lucky and she'd fall overboard and drown during the day. He'd rather take Halbjorn's wrath at returning to Sweden with nothing more than an elderly nursemaid and a chest full of silk gowns, than to endure even a moment with her. But he knew that was not his choice. What was his choice, his decision, was to say not a word to her, nor to even glance in her direction.

Calling for the men to put out the sails and get them moving, he buried himself in the task of getting them underway, ignoring the tiny golden head that poked out of the gossamer flap of the pavilion, for her own safety as much as for his sanity.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Bonus chapter! Hey all, to pimp out my chat with the lovely Fangreaders one more time before we sit down on Saturday [July 9th at 8 pm GMT at: fangreaders(dot) blogspot (dot) com] I thought I would give you an extra chapter this week. Call it a bribe to come and sit down with me!_

_I had such a blast reading the reviews from last chapter and I have to say, for anyone who follows this story but we haven't spoken, that through the course of reading the reviews and writing my profuse thanks to you all! I decided the best descriptor for Eric's behavior at the moment is Vampire PMS. It's been one of the challenges of writing this story to imagine what a much younger Eric would do when confronted with the emotional napalm that is Sookie. We know that even in his confident, amazing, irresistible, 1000 year old version he was still extremely unsettled by the feelings she brought out in him, especially after he lost his memory of their week together. So unsettled that he tried to charm her, blackmail her, and even threaten her life to get some answers, and when all that failed he pretty childishly started ignoring and enraging her just to get a reaction. I figured younger Eric would have a lot less restraint, he would be more physical and more prone to some wild mood swings. That being said, I promise this is the worst of the angst. After this things will start to slowly get better. And to assure you I speak the truth I am crushing up two Pamprin right now and mixing them into his bottle of True Blood._

_Thank you my fab Beta Sheknitsnicely and my FFBFF Cageyspice! You guys are __**the best**__ putting aside the many demands of RL to help me get out an extra chapter this week! I love you both - more than Ice Cream AND chocolate! Okay enough rambling, I hope you enjoy the bonus pages!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…_

The bright rays of the sun filtered through the light curtains that covered the chamber's small windows, demanding that Saoirse find her way up from the blissful oblivion of sleep. Lifting her head, momentarily disoriented, she remembered suddenly where she was and felt the rush of memories flood her, along with a sense of despair.

Through the weeks that she had prepared for this journey and all of its possible outcomes, she had clung to one small scrap of knowledge: whatever might come, she had known an instance of true happiness. She had felt it as most never did, and it had left one flawless moment set apart from all the unhappiness that had been her life so far. She had been sure that last dawn, as she walked from the cottage, that she would never see him again, and it had hurt as nothing else ever had. But she had comforted herself with the knowledge that nothing, no dire fate or hateful duty, could ever take from her the memories of the Vampire she had so unexpectedly met and saved, and the joy that they had brought each other, no matter how short or bitter sweet.

That was still true, no fate and no duty could take that away, only the cold, hateful light of the truth could ruin the one memory she had hoped to keep pure and untarnished for her life to come. And, like the sunlight that lit every tiny corner of the cabin, exposing an imperfection in a wood grain here or a tiny thread loose in the blanket there, the truth had exposed both of their lies and omissions and laid them bare, until the hazy happiness of their shared dream was no more.

She had known, walking into the vastness of the great hall last night, that she would never be Sookie again. She had let that other part of herself live for a brief time with Eric on the beach, but Eric was gone now, and her obligation to her grandfather and her people called her to a duty she could not shirk or run away from. She had let that part of herself go and had made her peace with the future to come. But that part of herself was real. Sookie and Sookie's memories would keep Saoirse warm in the harsh land to which she had begun to travel last night. She knew that she had not been truthful with Eric about her circumstances, but the feelings and the contentment that she felt with him were real and that was what mattered to her as she began the slow walk to Niall's throne and to the fearsome Vampire that waited to take her to her fate.

She remembered the moment that she realized that she would not be allowed to keep even the hazy dream of happiness. She recalled the resounding crash that had caused her to look past Niall, whom she had focused on like a beacon to keep her walking to her fate, and saw the man, the Vampire, next to him. At first she had only seen his eyes, blazing with pain and betrayal and, almost as if she were outside of herself looking down, she realized that she knew those eyes, knew them better than any other eyes in the world, loved them better than any other eyes, and yet they looked at her the wrong way. They were filled with barely repressed violence, when they should have been filled with tenderness and desire. Her confusion had rooted her to the flagstones beneath her feet for what must have only been a short moment in time, but had felt like an eternity: an eternity in which the ground fell out from under her and the air in the room seemed to vanish.

She _did_ know those eyes deeply, intimately, and she knew the face and form that they inhabited. But where, before, that form, so tall and beautiful, had given her a sense of safety and comfort and had felt, lying atop hers, like the most perfect shield against the world and its sorrows, it now stood tightly coiled before her, the epitome of enraged hatred and barely contained brutality. She was terrified of him as she had never been of anyone else before and she suddenly knew that she had not been the only one keeping secrets. But where she could swear on the lives of all those she held dear that the person she had been with him was her most true and most real self, she had no way of knowing if the Eric who had loved her on her beach was the real Eric, or if the fearsome Commander of Halbjorn's nightmare army, the Vampire who had slaughtered thousands of her people and drained the blood from their still warm bodies, was the real Eric.

She had never doubted, even when the rush of her love for him had taken her reason away from her, that he was a dangerous creature. Had he not admitted to her that he had come to her home for the express purpose of killing her grandfather? Yet, she had never felt fear of him. In fact, the danger and darkness that he seemed imbued with had only made her want him more. The idea that a creature so strong and frightening could look on her and find within himself love and gentleness, had made her giddy. She had known what he was capable of, but she had seen through it to a part of him that she felt sure he had never shared with anyone else, and it was this knowledge that he was gentle, if only for her, that had changed her attraction and fascination with him into love.

Yet now, as she looked at him, she saw only the darkness. She could practically feel the hard, frightening emotions coming off of him, and she knew that they were directed at her. Where she felt the shock of learning the truth in this way as a breaking of her heart, he felt it as a betrayal and it roused such fury in him that she could sense it as surely as if she had plucked it from his mind, or read his emotions as she did those of her kinsfolk.

She remembered Niall's strong and steady voice ringing out through the hall, sounding so confident when she could feel his tension and confusion. It had called her back from the edge of the abyss and her body had obeyed his command to come to him, even as her heart and mind had continued to swim in the confusion and dread they had just been plunged into.

Niall had formally introduced them and any hope that she might have misunderstood what was happening had faded away. Eric… the Lord Commander, had bowed before her and called her his Queen, but she had felt him barely hanging on to coherency. Once the words had left his mouth he had stormed out, leaving them all there completely bewildered.

At first she had not even heard the voice of his lieutenant, another tall and imposing Vampire named Wallace, as he'd asked her to come with him, gesturing for her to precede him out of the hall. She had taken one last look at Niall's shocked face and followed, Amena and the other Vampires trailing after her.

She barely remembered the journey to the boat and the shock she felt when she saw up close how beautiful it was. But the image of her Vampire as he destroyed her sanctuary, rending the wood to pieces and then lighting them on fire, would be branded into her memory forever. It had broken her heart all over again to see his rejection of their time together and his anger. But she knew that hope was still with her. Hope of what, she was not sure, but hope nonetheless. They had both kept secrets, they had both omitted parts of the truth, they were equals in that deception. If she could sit here now, knowing that she had kept things from him for good reasons, then she had to believe that he had done the same. If only she could make him understand why she had lied to him and if only she could understand why he had kept his secrets from her, then maybe… maybe all was not lost.

She had to talk to him, to make things right, she knew that. But even if she did, even if they could make their way through the mess that they had gotten into, what then? She was still promised to his King. She still had to go through with whatever plans Halbjorn had in store for her in order to ensure the peace between her people and his. Saoirse's head began to spin as she went over it and over it, until finally she forced herself to concentrate on one thing and one thing only: she must speak to Eric.

With her first decision made, Saoirse turned back to the window and was astonished to see that it was a clear, beautiful morning. Though the tiny aperture she could see that there was nothing before them but endless, blue ocean. The sight entranced her. Looking to see Amena still sleeping on the pallet by her feet, Saoirse rose, quickly donned a simple linen dress, and walked through the doors of the cabin and out into the curtained pavilion.

The pavilion, which was the entry way to her sleeping chamber, was a roofed off section of the deck that was supported by four wooden poles and hung with white gossamer curtains. It was a big enough space to include a lovely couch for her to recline on and two sturdy cushioned chairs. The curtains could be tied back with cord so that the view of the sea could be appreciated without obstruction, or they could be let down as they were now, for a feeling of greater privacy.

Taking one long deep breath of the sea air, Saoirse parted the curtain and gazed for the first time on the blue ocean that she had always dreamed of sailing. It was glorious, an endless sheet of azure extending as far as the eye could see in every direction. The sun glinted off the water, making it sparkle like a thousand tiny diamonds and the clouds where white and cottony. She knew that she should feel frightened right now. She thought fleetingly that perhaps it might be best for her to remain in her chamber. After all, she had no idea how the men on board, whether they be Vampires or the Humans who served them, were going to treat her. But she could not make herself go back inside. The air, the breeze, the gentle swaying of the boat and the beautiful water: they all called to her and she found herself moving closer and closer to the prow, so that she could look over into the ocean.

She would be frightened later, she decided. Right now she wished to be enchanted. She had not been watching the water long when she felt someone come up behind her. Turning quickly, she was met with a youngish looking man of good height, with light brown hair and kind, grayish eyes. He seemed startled at first that she had turned so quickly, but once he collected himself he bowed low to her.

"Majesty." Saoirse could not contain her surprise at hearing this title come from his mouth. "I am Ulv Ingdorson. I am First Mate aboard your vessel and the Captain at Arms of his Majesty's ships. I am at your command during our journey." Saoirse was not sure which surprised her more: that Halbjorn had made a Human the leader of his sea vessels or that he was treating her as though she were truly to become his Queen.

"I thank you ,Captain Ingdorson." The First Mate smiled at her, showing a row of bright white teeth.

"Please, my Lady, you may call me Ulv." Saoirse bowed slightly in return, acknowledging his kindness. She could see from his mind that he was not a bad person. He adored the sea and adventuring and the Vampire King paid him well and kept him doing what he loved. Saoirse found herself wishing to ask about Halbjorn as it seemed that Ulv thought highly of him, which she found beyond strange, but she stopped herself, feeling that it would be inappropriate.

"Thank you Ulv." Was all she chose to say.

"If you have need of me, Majesty, I will be helping the men with the ropes and tackle. I will have something brought for you to eat shortly. Would you wish to eat in your chamber or in the pavilion?" Saoirse looked out at the magnificent water surrounding them and pulled in another draught of the lovely sea air.

"In the pavilion, thank you." She replied. Ulv bowed one more time and went about his duties. As he walked away she turned back to the lovely blue waves that danced all about the ship, letting herself relax into them, and that was when she heard him.

.oO~*~Oo.

Eric awoke just as the last rays of the sun fell below the horizon. The others around him had mostly woken as well and were dressing quickly. Following suit, he picked himself up off of the pallet, put his boots back on and strapped his sword to his side.

When he emerged from the protected sleeping chamber below deck, he knew immediately that something had happened during the day. The Humans were tense and looking at the Vampires with barely concealed fear and four of the main crew were tied to the mast. He watched as Ulv made his way over to him, consternation and worry written on his face.

"What has happened?" Eric demanded. He knew most of the men on board and they were, by and large, experienced and loyal, but among them Ulv was the only Human he could say, without any doubt, that he trusted. This was why he had recommended that Halbjorn raise him to the position of Captain of Arms.

"My Lord, there has been an incident." Ulv gestured to the group of sailors who were bound with rope at the opposite end of the boat. "They were plotting to kill all the Vampires during the day, steal the ships, take the gold and sell her Highness." Eric felt himself stiffen with anger. "There are eight more, four aboard each of the smaller ships as well. They have all been taken prisoner." Eric nodded at Ulv, enraged by what had almost happened but proud of his Captain for proving once again that he was a Human worth trusting.

"You've done well. How did you discover their plot?" Eric watched as Ulv's face rearranged itself, first to relief and then to something Eric could swear was disbelief.

"My Lord, it was not I who discovered the plot but her Highness the Princess." Ulv watched Eric's eyebrow lift up into his hair line and felt sure that his master would not believe him when he told Eric the truth. He didn't really want to believe it himself, but as much as he tried to convince himself that it was not possible, he knew what he had witnessed today had happened.

"And, pray tell, how did her Highness the Princess discover this plot." Ulv took a deep breath, detecting the subtle hint of a sneer in his Master's voice when he spoke of the Princess. He didn't know why, for she seemed to him nothing but lovely, but in the short time she had been on board Ulv could clearly see that his Master had taken a most intense dislike to her.

"My lord, I do not know how to explain it but…she…well…" Ulv stammered.

"Out with it man." Ulv could see Eric quickly losing control of his temper and he knew that he didn't want to be on the receiving end of Eric's anger when it finally took sway. So he simply said it, without thinking, as fast as he could.

"She read their minds, my Lord." Ulv had been looking down when he said it, fearful that Eric would not believe him and so, when no reply came, he raised his eyes to see his Master staring at him with a look that would rival death itself for the terror it engendered.

"She what?" Eric practically spat.

"She read their minds. Egil, there, was the ring leader. She read his mind, and then the minds of all the others as we rounded them up." Ulv knew he was falling all over his words at this point, but he could not help himself.

"And you believed her?" This time Eric's question was voiced quietly, but Ulv was not foolish enough to think that this meant that his Master's anger was past. If anything it only boded worse.

"I do my Lord. If you have any doubt you may glamour them and see for yourself, but I believe her." Ulv wasn't even finished with his last words as Eric walked away from him and towards the bound men.

Eric wasted little time picking the ring leader out and commanding Wallace to unbind him and bring him forward. The man, Egil, wisely chose not to struggle, deciding instead to proclaim his innocence loudly and pleadingly.

"My Lord, please, this is madness. The woman is insane, a witch, she has put Ulv and the others under some sort of spell. I swear to you that I am loyal, as are the others…" Egil might have continued with his plea, but at that moment, hoping to convince Eric of his loyalty with the sincerity of his eyes, he had looked directly at the Vampire and Eric had taken his mind in less than a second.

"You are quite safe, Egil. Calm yourself now and tell me the truth. Did you plot to take over the ship and to kill me and the other Vampires?" Egil nodded drunkenly, his mind no longer his to direct. "And was it you that came up with this plot, or is there another who has put you up to it?"

"The plot was mine." Egil's body suddenly sagged in Wallace's hold as Eric released the man from his glamour. Turning slightly, Eric called Ulv back to his side.

"Gather the Human crew. When everyone is assembled, throw them overboard. Make sure the other boats know to do the same." Eric waited only long enough to see Ulv bow low in acceptance of the men's fate and then he turned and made his way towards the pavilion.

Not bothering to knock, Eric pushed the door open, watching as Sookie's servant woman stood, her face turning red and righteous indignation painting her face. He paid no attention to her at all, allowing his gaze to fall on Sookie instead as she sat calmly, her needlework still in her hand, though no longer paying it any attention.

"What is the meaning of this?" Her servant demanded. "You have no right to barge in here unannounced and disturb my lady." Eric pulled his eyes from Sookie long enough to give the servant a stare that had reduced full grown Fairies to weeping for mercy. He was slightly astonished when he saw that, though the fat old woman turned silent, she did not look away from him or back down.

"I am Commander of his Majesty's army and Captain of this ship, I do not need permission to go anywhere on this vessel. Get yourself out of my sight this instant before I throw you overboard along with the others who've been stupid enough to challenge me today." He felt quite satisfied when he heard her gasp of fear, but was again irked when he saw that it took Sookie's hand on her arm and her gentle assurance that she would be alright, to get the servant woman to leave. Giving in to his anger, Eric let his fangs snick down and bared them nastily at the old woman as she hurried past him and out of the chamber.

When the door shut behind them, they both became aware that they were alone. The moment seemed almost endless as neither of them said a word but only stared openly at each other, seeing one another as they truly were for the first time, without the eyes and ears of others upon them, making expectations of what should be between them.

Sookie took him in, drinking in the sight as quickly as possible, as though she might never have the chance again. He was just as magnificent now as he had been on their last night together on the beach: tall, strong and beautiful, his long hair flowing out behind him, his body encased in leather and linen that clung to his hard muscled form like a glove, the sword at his side making it clear that he was a creature to be feared and crossed only at one's extreme peril and stupidity. He was every bit the terrifying Vampire that reputation led her to expect, but when she got to his eyes, those beautiful ice blue pools that she now knew she had loved since the moment they had locked with hers in the waning moments before sunrise in what seemed now like another life, she knew that the man she loved was still there within him. He was deeply unsure, terribly confused and hurt and he was being buried, suffocating under layers of newly laid armor, armor that she knew was meant to protect him against her…but he was there. If only she could bring him out.

For Eric, the moment was like a final twist of the knife which had been sunk into his chest the night before. Without others watching him, expecting him to say the right things and act the right way, he found himself adrift in his own confusion. It was Sookie before him and yet it was not. The scent of her blood, the allure of her body (which he now knew so well), the beauty of her face it was all there: but everything else was wrong. Her clothes, her jewels, the air of hard-earned worldliness that now painted her features, the sight of her like this made him feel baffled, betrayed and unhappy. It made him feel a host of emotions that he could not abide, emotions that made him weak, weaker even than loving her had made him, and he would not, _could_ not have that.

So instead he chose to ignore her eyes, which spoke in volumes of her regret at deceiving him and her continuing love for him, and let himself sink into the anger that he knew would sustain him while they talked. The anger that would keep him from falling apart, from giving in to the desire to crush her against him, to kiss her until she was breathless. The anger that would stop him from demanding, no matter what had happened while they were separated, no matter who she truly was, or who he truly was, that she tell him she was still and would always be his. The anger that would keep him from ever making the mistake of permitting himself to be vulnerable before her again.

"It seems you have yet more secrets, Majesty." He spat the last word at her, mocking her with his most florid and graceful bow. Sookie sighed heavily, hating that yet another thing she had not shared with him had been revealed by circumstance, putting another wedge between them. Rising slowly from her seat, she tried to make herself as tall as possible, to prove she was not intimidated by him.

"Eric, please…" Whatever she would have said was cut off by his hand slashing the air violently.

"I do not think it right that you should address me so familiarly. After all, Princess Saoirse, we hardly know each other." He wished that his words could drip with indifference, he wished that they had the coldness of ice to them, but they did not. Even he could hear the heat in them, even he could see through his own ploy. He wanted to hurt her as she'd hurt him: it was childish and stupid and entirely Human and it was another unwanted and unexpected manifestation of these feelings that, now set loose, felt uncontrollable. He hated her all the more for it.

"My Lord," the words burned in her throat, but she would say them if it meant he would listen to her, "I know that I have kept things from you, but I am still myself. You do know me." The snort of derision that came from him hit her hard.

"What I know about you could fill a thimble, my lady. However, I did not come here to find out why you lied to me about who you were or who your people were, nor do I care for what sick games or amusement you took me to your bed. I came only to get an honest answer about what happened today. Are you even capable of that?" Sookie felt herself begin to tremble. She could not cry in front of him, she would not. She was stronger than that.

"I will answer you honestly. What do you want to know?" The words came out small, but she was proud that her voice did not shake.

"Do you see the future or what is in men's minds?" Sookie heard his voice drop in volume, becoming almost conversational. She looked up at him and felt that he was luring her into a sense of security.

"I read people's minds." She said, hoping that her voice had come out a little stronger this time. He nodded at her.

"Can you read my mind?" She shook her head at him so vigorously that he was momentarily fearful she might hurt herself, before he remembered that he no longer cared what became of her one way or the other.

"No. I can read Humans perfectly. The Fae are harder; I usually know how they are feeling, but do not get words or pictures from their minds. But you are silent to me, as are all the other Vampires on board the ship. I can tell where you are from the absence of your thoughts, but that is all. It's…blissful actually, your silence. It was what brought me to you that morning on the beach. I heard the nothing and I couldn't stop myself from finding out what it was."

"Do not speak of that to me." He commanded harshly. If she talked about it, about their time on the beach together, he did not know if he could handle it. What had happened there between them had been like a dream to him, but now he knew that it would never be anything more. She had lied to him about everything. How could he believe a word that came out of her mouth? If she spoke of that time to him, how could he ever trust that what she said was truthful?

He knew that he had to let it go. Were his maker here, no doubt he would laugh at Eric for the foolishness of the mistake he had made. He had allowed himself to care for a Human…no, something much worse…a Fairy, and now he was paying the price for it. Had Appius not told him, not shown him again and again, that a Vampire must never, NEVER care for anything or anyone but himself? He needed to remember that now, as he looked on her.

Catching her eyes, he stared her down as he began to let himself think of all the things that his body still longed to do to hers, and then he twisted those still swirling desires into something dark and hateful. He allowed himself to picture them pressed against the wall, her simple dress in ribbons around his feet as he lifted her now naked body up and mounted her roughly on his erection.

He imagined bruising her lips with his kisses and twisting her hair painfully in his hands as he prepared to bite her. He imagined hearing her scream in pain as he broke the flesh of her neck with his fangs and slammed brutally into the virginal folds of her sex. He could almost physically feel it as he let himself imagine the brutality with which he would take her, claim her, punish her for the lies she had told and the feelings she had stirred that he could not push back down. But no matter how cruel or how bloody his thoughts, he could see that she had no reaction whatsoever. Her face remained a mask of hurt but it was for the harshness of his words and not the viciousness of his imaginings. Otherwise she remained completely unaffected, her heart beat and breathing just as steady as they had been before. She was telling the truth: she could not hear him. It was a small mercy that, at least this once, she was not lying.

But her honesty did nothing for the dark compulsions his thoughts had raised, and those compulsions, once conjured, seemed to take him over. He needed to purge them before they consumed him. He needed an outlet before they drove him insane. Looking at her now, he did the only thing his Vampire instincts told him he could.

In a rush of movement so fast that Sookie had not even seen it, she was up against the wall of her chamber, Eric's body pressing her hard into the wood. She began to struggle against him, terrified all of a sudden of the whirling maelstrom in his eyes. She was about to cry out, to beg him to stop, when he grabbed her face in both of his hands and forced her to look at him.

"Stop struggling." He commanded, his voice breaking with the restraint she knew that he was using not to simply snap her head off her shoulders. But it was not his command that stopped her dead in her tracks for a moment. It was the pressure that she suddenly felt on her mind. Without having ever experienced it before, she understood that he was trying to influence her, to glamour her. She felt the tears begin to fall as his next words left his mouth. "Yield to me." She knew absolutely what he intended to do to her, what he expected that she would allow him to do, and in a lifetime of hurt, this rivaled even the worst things that she had experienced.

She had thought that she knew him. She had thought that there was a man lurking inside this monster, she had thought that there was goodness in him. But now she felt as though she had been wearing blinders and that they had only just been removed. Without them she saw clearly the beast that lived in him. Had she imagined it all? No matter what else had happened between them, she had still saved his life when she did not have to, if for nothing other than that he should not treat her this way.

But he was and she shuddered now to realize that perhaps there had only ever been this monster and that the man she loved was no more than a figment of her affection starved imagination. She didn't want to believe it, but looking at him she realized it must be true, for all she saw now was the nightmare that had killed so many of her people; the Vampire that Niall had been so rightly wary of.

This man before her was not her Eric, her lover and her love. He was something cold and dark, something alien to her in every way. The knowledge of it broke her from her moment of passive astonishment and she began to struggle once again.

"NO, GET AWAY FROM ME! LEAVE ME ALONE!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. The sound of her enraged words and the feeling of her fighting him anew seemed to pull him from the dark haze that had been consuming him. Stepping back, he could not tell what shocked him more: that he had been about to hurt her or that she had resisted his glamour. Looking at her once more, feeling nothing now except shame for what he would have done, for what he had allowed himself to be lowered to, he turned around and fled the room without another word. Like a coward, he thought to himself. To his astonishment, he found Wallace outside the pavilion.

"What did you hear?" Eric asked, feeling exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with the rising or setting of the sun.

"Everything." The other Vampire answered. If it had been anyone else, Eric knew that there would have been another death on board the ship this night, but he trusted the older Vampire, his brother in arms these hundred and twenty years, as he trusted no one else except Halbjorn.

It had not always been so. He remembered, with meticulous clarity, how jealous the other Vampire had been when Halbjorn had appointed him instead of Wallace to lead his armies into battle against the Fae. But, in the intervening decades, their relationship had changed from that of competition to comradeship. If Vampires could be said to have friendships, then Wallace had become his friend.

"Did anyone else hear?" Wallace shook his head vehemently.

"You know I would not let any others hear." Wallace gently rebuked. Eric nodded, knowing full well that he could trust Wallace with the things that had just been revealed.

"I cannot leave the ship, not after what has happened this day, but I think it prudent that his Majesty be informed of his new bride's….gift…before we make landfall. I'm charging you with that task. Get back to Upsala immediately and tell him of the mind reading and the fact that she can't be glamoured." Wallace nodded, and without another word spoken between them, the older Vampire took to the night sky.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Not much to say except that I can't thank everyone enough for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and putting this story on alert! It really means so much to me! And of course to thank my outta this world beta Sheknitsnicely for slaving at this story when her RL is just crazy stressful right now! You better be resting right now chicky! That's an order!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, no surprises there….

The sun was just rising over the endless blue water when Saoirse awoke. The sea air, clean and cool, lifted the gossamer curtains and wafted in to greet her. Dressing quickly in a simple brown linen gown and throwing her hair into a messy braid, Saoirse made her way onto the deck.

Standing by the prow was Ulv. Since the first day, when she'd discovered the plot of the sailors to steal the ship, she had grown to like him. He took great pains to always be kind to her and to answer her questions and she found his stories and his kind manners soothing. She felt in need of that soothing now, as she sensed in the minds of the other men that something had changed this morning.

"Good morning my Lady. I take it your lady nurse is still abed?" Saoirse had to laugh. For men who worked for Vampires, they were all comically afraid of her hefty, plain spoken caretaker. Word had gotten around the ship fast, that second night, that Amena had stood up to Eric, and it had gained her a healthy dose of wary respect from even the most hardened sailors aboard.

"You're safe, I left Amena snoring in her bed." She responded, laughing all the harder when Ulv placed his hand over his chest and feigned a relieved sigh. "Your men seem excited. What's going on?" Ulv gestured to a point in the distance, barely discernable in the bright early morning sun.

"Land, Highness." He answered. Saoirse felt her heart sink. She could not yet make out the landmass that Ulv saw, but she had no doubt it was there. The long week that she'd spent on the boat, she had pushed away her dread of what was to come. Her days had been filled with trying to make sense of what had happened between her and Eric and of trying to convince herself to forget him. Whoever he had pretended to be when he was with her on the beach was not who he really was. Her dream lover was nothing more than that: a dream. She could only regret now how much of herself she had given to him, and be thankful that she had not given everything.

But, as the form in the distance came ever closer, the lines of the land beginning to make themselves clear, Saoirse began to feel real fear. She was under no delusion that the fine boat she traveled in was for the sake of appearances. Halbjorn might be a sworn enemy of her grandfather, but he was not stupid enough to think her kin would allow her to be led out of the castle in chains and thrown in the ship's brig. She knew that she would not truly find out how the future was to go until they arrived. And suddenly she wished very much that it might never happen.

The morning grew old as Saoirse watched land grow ever closer. Around midday the ocean gave way to the river Fyris and their boats began to make their way inland, running parallel to the shore. In the summer sunlight Halbjorn's country was astonishingly beautiful. Dense forests gave way to handsomely appointed villages surrounded by farmland and banked by the crystal blue waters of the river. As they passed the few villages that lined their path, Saoirse saw Humans rushing out to wave to them and bow low before the Vampire King's boat. She knew that Halbjorn lived almost as openly here as Niall did in Ireland and she marveled that these people did not seem entirely frightened of the ship or its inhabitants, but perhaps that was simply because it was daylight.

A mile from their destination, the castle and its battlements came into view. Saoirse could see it immediately, imposing and built entirely of gleaming black stone, rising up like a nightmare to stain the blue sky. The castle, mounted on a high hill, was ringed with four battlements connected by tall stone walls. She could see vaguely that there was a second ring of stone walls that enclosed the main keep itself and two moats: one outside and one before the inner battlements. Halbjorn's castle was a stunning, terrifying fortress that, while intimidating during the day, would take on an almost dreadful quality at night, a ghostly shadow in the moonlight warning the foolish to stay away and his enemies to think long and well before attacking.

Saoirse almost jumped when she felt Ulv's hand fall on her shoulder. Turning to meet the eyes of the human First Mate, she saw that he was regretful of having startled her.

"Majesty, we are about to dock. If you would gather anything you wish to carry with you, horses will be waiting to take you up to the castle." Saoirse nodded her head and ran to retrieve Amena. Before, she had noticed little of the city but, as she emerged a second time with Amena and all the things Amena did not trust the sailors and servants to bring up, she made a point to look anywhere but at the frightening fortress where she would soon be a captive.

The city of Upsala was impressive, teeming with Human life and bustling in the bright summer sun. As they waited for a delegation from the castle to meet them, Ulv pointed out the temple to the Nordic Gods, where Halbjorn and many of the other Vampires still went to make offerings and pray, and the Christian cathedral nearby. Saoirse had to admit that she found it amusing that Halbjorn allowed the Christians so close, but then she supposed there was no understanding the mind of a Vampire.

When the boats were safely docked, Saoirse saw a tall, dark haired man dressed in livery, alight the boat and stride up to her and Amena. "My lady, I am Sir Calder, King Halbjorn's Seneschal. I bring you greetings from his Majesty." Saoirse could not help the confusion that was clear on her face. It was the same disorientation she had felt when Ulv first bowed before her, showing her the respect she would have expected had she actually come here to be his Master's bride. She had assumed her role as prisoner would start now, and yet here was another of the King's men, bowing before her as though she were actually about to become their Queen.

"I thank you, my Lord." Saoirse was proud of how steady her words had come out, even as she felt herself drowning in that now familiar sea of bewilderment. Calder gestured to the horses waiting on the dock: a white Palfrey for herself and a handsome, steady looking brown mare for Amena. They waited quietly in the afternoon sun as the Vampires, encased in heavy steal pods, were unloaded from the ship and placed in carts, using a winch and pulley system similar to that used to mount an armored Knight onto a horse. When they, and all of Saoirse's belongings, were loaded, Calder helped them off the ship and onto their mounts, leading the train up the hill to the castle.

All along the route, people came out to watch them and Saoirse was astonished to see men, women and children waving to her. One little girl even handed her a bouquet of beautiful white flowers and wished her happiness, calling her Majesty. As they approached the castle, the drawbridge was lowered and they entered the outer ring of the castle fortification, passing straight on through the second bridge and into the courtyard of the Keep proper. Calder shouted out orders to the men waiting there to help them, and Saoirse watched as the Vampires were taken in one direction and she and her belongings in another.

"Are you hungry, my Lady?" Calder asked, concern painting his face. Saoirse's confusion rose once again. Why on earth should he care? Shaking her head that she was not, she followed as Calder led her through the empty main hall and up several winding staircases until they reached a large set of double doors. The Pages there opened them wide and Amena and Saoirse were led into a large set of rooms. "This, my Lady, will be your private audience chamber," Calder said, motioning to the first room, which held a large fireplace lining one wall, a small dais with a throne underneath a canopy of green velvet, fringed with gold tassel, and several small chairs and tables near the open casements.

Gesturing that she should follow him, Calder led her into the next room, a lovely parlor with soft chairs next to another grand fireplace, a large couch and a strong oak writing desk and chair. "Your receiving chamber." He stated simply, then opened the last door, which led to her sleeping chamber. It was the most sumptuous sleeping room she had ever seen. In it were an enormous bed with the finest and softest looking, purple velvet hangings and a smaller comfortable looking pallet next to it for Amena, a vanity beautifully fashioned out of oak and polished to a gleaming shine and, to her surprise, a fine silver mirror. There was also another writing desk, again of finely polished oak, near the window and two comfortable chairs before a smaller fireplace. As Calder was showing her this last room, she heard the door to the main chamber being opened and suddenly there were several men bringing in her things and placing them where appropriate.

"If your Highness has no further need for me, I will leave you to get settled. His Majesty will send for you an hour after sunset." With that, Sir Calder bowed one last time and took the servants with him as he left.

"What do you think all this means?" Saoirse asked Amena, sitting heavily on the bed, her mind still spinning. Amena, who had begun even now to busy herself with taking the things out of Saoirse's trunks and organizing them, stopped.

"I have not the slightest clue, but since you were not brought from the ship directly to the dungeon, let's attempt to make the best of it, shall we?" Saoirse nodded dumbly as she watched Amena. Her nurse pulled out several gowns and laid them and their adornments out, casting a critical eye over each. "If you were the midnight sky to meet Lord Eric, then I think you should be the sun itself to meet the King."

Several hours later, having bathed and eaten, Saoirse stood before Amena, waiting for her nurse to give the final verdict. The gown they had chosen for tonight was one of her finest, yellow silk over a white linen shift, with a belt made of round gold circles, inlaid with pearls and a gold and pearl broach to match. Though she was never fond of them, Amena had insisted on braiding Saoirse's hair and placing the matching white pill box hat and chin scarf on her, with a short yellow veil trailing behind. Amena only had time to nod her approval before there was a knock at the outer chamber door. The sun had only just set and the two women shared a puzzled gaze, not knowing who their visitor could be.

Amena held out her hand to Saoirse to help her down from the dressing stool so that she could greet her unexpected guest, when the door to her sleeping chamber was opened without warning. Both women froze and Saoirse felt a jolt of panic when she beheld the figure standing before her. He did not wear a crown or carry a scepter or sword, but she had no doubt in her terrified mind that, standing before her, was Halbjorn himself.

"Leave us." Halbjorn commanded, in a deep, authoritative voice. For one moment longer, Amena stood stock still, her hand frozen in its outstretched position, her face drained of all its color before she looked to Saoirse. Saoirse nodded her head and Amena knew she had no choice but to exit the room, leaving her charge alone with the Devil himself.

Inside her bed chamber, Saoirse remained standing on her dressing stool, her eyes attempting to take in the King without appearing deliberate. He was tall, almost as tall as Eric, with flame colored hair that reached to his mid back and a beard of the same color, closely trimmed to his face. He was broad and muscular and looked to have been in his early thirties when he was turned. He was a massive man and she could see very well why he was feared. Yet, though she didn't know why, she suddenly became certain that she did not need to be afraid of him.

Perhaps it was his eyes. They were of an arctic blue color, so light they seemed almost to be colorless and, though she was sure they could reduce an enemy to absolute driveling terror if he chose, they were not terrifying right now. He appeared, if anything, to be sizing her up, though not in the way that a man usually examined a woman. He seemed to be trying to see something inside of her. It unnerved her because she had no idea what he saw, or what he was trying to see, but she was not frightened. Finally, after long moments of appraisal, he spoke.

"Is it true that you can read minds?" He asked, his stare penetrating to the heart of her. Saoirse only nodded, not feeling confident in her voice. "And you cannot be glamoured?" Again, she nodded. Halbjorn seemed to think for another long moment, in which his eyes never left hers, before he spoke again.

"Then I shall be forced to trust you with the truth. You have not earned such trust though, so if you betray the confidence I am about to give you, I promise you will live only long enough to deeply, deeply regret it." His voice took on a threatening quality that did, finally, make Saoirse tremble. But she knew that whatever happened in this room now would set the tone for the rest of her days and, therefore, she needed to meet it head on. Finally finding her voice, she stared back at him with as much confidence as she could muster.

"I am not in the habit of telling tales. I hear more than you could ever imagine, more than I have ever cared to know. My life has rested on my ability to keep silent many times before now." This time it was the King who nodded, seemingly pleased by her response.

"Then I put before you a choice, my Lady. There is a cell in my dungeon awaiting your arrival. If you choose to be stubborn or proud or simply foolish, you are free to take it. I have no qualm about locking you away for the rest of your days and siphoning off your blood until there is nothing left." Saoirse felt herself stiffen and her stomach drop into her feet. But, before she could let herself be swept away by the frightening images his words had evoked, he continued.

"However, it is my hope that you will listen to what I am about to offer you and accept my bargain. If you choose the latter then I give you my word that you will be treated with the respect due your station both as a Princess and, in a few days, as my Queen." Saoirse stepped carefully down from the stool, sitting in the chair before the fire and gesturing for Halbjorn to take the other one. The King smiled slightly, though it did not reach his eyes, and took the offered seat across from her.

"What bargain is it you wish to offer me, Majesty?" She asked, hoping that whatever he had to say was not too horrible, hoping that she could accept whatever he asked of her and live with it.

"First, let us understand each other, Princess. Before Eric's message reached me, I viewed you in one light only. You are a living sign of my conquest of the Fae and, as such, a cautionary symbol to my enemies (and those who would consider becoming my enemies) that I always triumph and that, when I do, I take what I please from those I have vanquished. This purpose you can serve, whether you are here in these comfortable rooms or hanging in a cage above my throne or, again , if you choose to be stubborn and foolish, in my dungeon. However, I am not a man given to needless cruelty of women, nor am I a King who wishes to lose the talent that Eric has discovered you possess and, all and in all, I feel you will be of more use to me if you are kept happy, something you certainly will not be if you are treated as a prisoner.

If you are willing to use your gift to assist me in ruling my Kingdom and keeping my subjects in line, then I will promise you a good life here. We will go through with the wedding ceremony, you may keep these rooms, have servants to attend you and all the jewels and fine clothes or other things you desire. All I ask in return is, again, the use of your gift and the right to feed on you as I choose." Saoirse could not hide her shock from the Vampire across from her, and it caused him to laugh loud and long.

"It's not all eating babies and bathing in the blood of the innocent, my Lady. Ruling a Kingdom as vast as mine and controlling the lesser monarchs who owe me their fealty, is quite difficult and your talent could make it easier for me. You have already proved your worth by saving Eric and his men during your journey, therefore I feel it worth the effort to treat you well in return for what you offer. " Saoirse's head was still reeling when she held out her hand to Halbjorn, but she knew that she could not wait for it to clear: she needed to seize this opportunity or it might simply evaporate before her.

"I accept your bargain, Majesty, and thank you most sincerely for it." The humor in Halbjorn's eyes did not diminish as he took her hand and kissed it lightly.

"This pleases me greatly." He said simply. "I will leave you now, as I have matters to attend to. However, I will see you downstairs in a little while for your formal presentation to the court. Have no fear of them, Lady. As long as you keep your promises to me, I will keep mine to you." With that, Halbjorn, bent to kiss Saoirse's hand once more and was gone.

Saoirse had barely seen him leave when Amena was back at her side, kneeling before her chair and begging to know what had happened. But she had hardly enough time to comprehend it herself, no less relate it to Amena, before there was another knock at the door and she found Wallace on the other side, waiting to escort her to the Great Hall. She felt a peace which had not been with her before. She did not know why, she had been fooled by a Vampire before, yet she felt that she could trust Halbjorn to keep his word. If he had meant to harm her he would have put her in that dungeon or in that cage immediately.

.oO~*~Oo.

Eric paced outside the doors to the Great Hall, waiting for Wallace to return. He knew that he should have been the one to escort the Princess down, but in truth he simply could not bring himself to risk it. After the incident on the boat he was unwilling to be alone with her, even for the short amount of time it would take them to walk from her chamber to the Great Hall. He still could not quite bring himself to believe how completely he had almost lost control, nor did he wish to contemplate how close to the surface those dark impulses remained. She had shattered his peace and his self-control utterly and the only way he had been able to keep his emotional turmoil from taking him over again, or becoming apparent to others, was by erecting a cold mask of hatred which he wore anytime she was present or even spoken of.

Eric was lifted from his musings by the scent of heaven itself floating through the corridor. She was coming nearer. She had bathed and, over the top of her honey sweet essence, he smelled roses and sandalwood. For one endless moment he let himself go back, back to the cottage and to the happiness he had given himself over to so briefly, and he felt himself grow giddy as she perfumed the air around him , reveling in the sweet anticipation her approach stirred. But, when she finally rounded the corner on Wallace's arm, reality again came crashing abruptly back and the anger he'd tried to so hard to govern flew back in full force.

She was the summer sun itself tonight, in her fine gown of yellow and gold, and he reminded himself bitterly that he escorted her tonight only as far as the dais, where her husband awaited her. She was no longer his little servant girl, no longer his: looking at her now, he tried not to remember that, in truth, she never really had been. She had done this to both of them with her lies and he wished her well of them and hoped that he would not have to remain to see what became of her. He would deliver her as he had been commanded and, as soon as the opportunity presented itself, he would again beg leave of Halbjorn to release him. He would go home, he would return to the lands of his childhood, and he would spend however many decades it took to free himself from this accursed love.

Saoirse's heart gave a painful lurch as she saw Eric standing there at the great doors, waiting with his men to escort her inside to "meet" her husband. Despite the close quarters on the ship, he had managed to avoid her almost entirely after their horrible fight the second night aboard, and therefore the sight of him startled her almost as if she were seeing him for the first time all over again.

He was dressed completely in black tonight, from his leather boots, pants and belt to his linen tunic. The dark color made his pale skin and golden hair positively glow by comparison, and his eyes seemed to burn with blue fire. She could see his aversion for her blazing in his gaze and it caused her to almost shrink back for a moment.

He hated her. He thought her a liar and fraud. She _had_ lied, of course, but not to hurt him. She had lied to keep him safe and her grandfather safe and herself safe. She had no choice in the matter. But now, after what had happened on the boat, she could no longer pretend that she knew him, even if she had not been completely successful at convincing herself that she no longer cared for him.

Wallace stopped them just in front of the double doors and handed her over to Eric. The two Vampires shared a look between them that she could not place, but it almost seemed as if Wallace was admonishing Eric in some way. It mattered very little though, because almost as soon as her warm hand had touched his cold one, almost too quickly for her to register the lightning bolt of electricity that shot up her arm from where he touched her, the doors to the Great Hall were swung open.

As they walked in procession down the long, velvet path, Saoirse took in the Hall and its inhabitants and, for the first time in this strange journey, she felt the oppressive weight of the nightmare she had been promised coming down around her. Without sunlight to illuminate the vastness of the hall, it took on a dark and eerie quality, the shadows reaching out from the corners to swallow whole sections of the enormous room. Two walls of the hall were actually mammoth fireplaces, which sent heat swirling into the center of the room and occasionally embers spitting out onto the stone floor, the low light from them dancing on the faces of the Vampires and Humans that lined their path; painting them in stark relief, so that they appeared more Demons than figures with Human forms. All eyes were on them as they walked and Saoirse could hear the occasional snicking of fangs descending. It frightened her more than she cared to admit, but the stone statue that walked beside her, bearing the face and form of the man she had loved, but devoid of any emotion whatsoever (beside his ever present hatred) offered no comfort.

All she had with her now for solace were Halbjorn's parting words that, as long as she kept her end of their bargain, she should not need to be frightened. She clung to those words as she made her way closer and closer to the raised dais on which sat his throne. Everything about this room was meant to instill awe and fear in the moonlight and the dais was no different: hung with black velvet, shot through with gold thread and framing the High King's throne, made not of gold or wood, but entirely of black marble, with the bodies of two dragons baring their gore encrusted teeth making up the legs and arm rests.

Saoirse kept her eyes on the fearsome looking King who, in his element, bore almost no resemblance to the interesting and surprising man she had spoken with less than an hour ago. As they moved her mind began, as it inevitably did in times of emotional distress, to lose its focus and the thoughts of the few Humans in the room became instantly clear to her. For the most part they were glamoured, foggy and filled with not much more than the command to remain silent and obedient by the feet of their Masters. If she dared to look around she would see these pathetic creatures, most of them chained and unseeing on their knees by the Vampires who owned them. But one mind was not, and Saoirse focused in on it immediately, its thoughts bombarding her.

With shock, she realized that the voice of this mind was coming from the dais. Looking past Halbjorn for the first time, she noticed who else stood with him. Just slightly behind his throne, to the right, was a beautiful woman with long dark hair, braided through with ribbons of white silk and a dress of the same material, ice blue in color, that emphasized her eyes. Those eyes were of the same, almost colorless blue as Halbjorn's and Saoirse realized that she was clearly a Vampire and somehow related to the King. Turning the other way, Saoirse realized that the voice was coming from the woman sitting at Halbjorn's feet.

She was slight, with pale skin and green eyes. Her face was smooth, but her features were regular almost to the point of being plain. The only thing about her that seemed in anyway unique was the wealth of lovely, red gold hair that fell from her shoulders and pooled on the floor behind her. Her dress was of a fine gossamer material, lovely, black, evocative and skin-baring upon first look. But as they got closer Saoirse could see that, for all her bare arms and exposed legs, all of her most necessary parts where well covered.

The girl's mind was completely coherent, despite her façade of meek submissiveness, and at this moment it was thinking of Saoirse: of Saoirse and Halbjorn and herself. The girl was thinking that she was beyond relieved that Saoirse had agreed to Halbjorn's bargain and that she hoped that, with her help, the truth about she and the King would continue to remain a secret.

Suddenly everything seemed to click into place for Saoirse, in a way that it had not when she had been sitting across from the Vampire High King, astonished that he would be so lenient with someone who was completely at his mercy.

His offer had, of course, not been altruistic, but it had also not been simply for her ability. He had been willing to make this bargain with her, to keep her as his actual Queen, to hide the fact that what lay between the fearsome, vicious Vampire King and the docile, seemingly glamoured and submissive pet as his feet was actual, true and real love: something he could not afford if he wished to remain in a position of power.

The realization comforted her as perhaps nothing else could. Halbjorn had a legitimate reason for the offer he made her and, if she abided by her word, he had every reason to abide by his. He would use her ability and he would no doubt avail himself often of her ever so faintly Fairy-laced blood, but his interest in her would end there. His heart and his bed, it seemed from the girl's mind, were reserved only for her.

Keeping her face neutral of the truth she had just learned, Saoirse took her last step up to the dais, allowing Eric to pull her down by her hand as they both bowed before his King.

"Majesty, I bring you safely your bride." Eric said formally. Saoirse watched as Halbjorn did little more than incline his neck.

"You have done well, Eric. I am pleased." Eric bowed once more, releasing Saoirse's hand and stepping back slightly, rejoining his men and leaving her before the King, alone.

"My Lady," Halbjorn began rising from his seat, "Allow me to introduce you to my sibling and chief advisor, Haldis." Halbjorn gestured to the elegant Vampire female to his right and Saoirse watched as the woman turned icy eyes on her for barely a moment before turning back.

"I am pleased to know you, Madame." Saoirse said, her voice ringing out confident and clear, though she was still not sure that she could truly claim those emotions. She watched as the side of the King's mouth twitched up momentarily, though she could not tell if it was his sister's action that peaked his humor, or her response.

"The others you shall meet with time. However, now I wish you to come and sit beside me while I take care of the business of the night." Motioning with his hand to one of the darker corners of the hall, Saoirse saw two Vampires bring forth another large marble chair, this one completely in white and, to her astonishment, with two nearly naked winged Fairy maidens making the arms and legs. Placing it beside the King's, they bowed low to her and retreated back into the darkness. Halbjorn made a gesture of offer to her and, without another thought, she brought herself up the dais and sat at his side.

The night had been filled with so many astonishing surprises that Saoirse was barely able to recognize another one coming when Halbjorn dismissed the men who had brought her here, but then suddenly called Eric back. Eric bowed low once more and then waited as Halbjorn gave him a searching gaze.

"Well, where is she?" Halbjorn asked and, though many of the others looked on with puzzlement, it was clear that those few words were enough for Eric to understand his question.

"My Lord, I have not brought her." Eric responded stiffly, his eyes snapping to Saoirse for one moment, and then returning to the King, steely and icy blue.

"Why ever not Eric, you seemed so filled with…anticipation when you left, I thought surely you would have brought your Sookie here for me to meet." At the sound of her other name, Saoirse tried with all her might to keep the gasp that wanted to escape her inside. What where they talking about?

"No, Majesty, you mistake me. I have not brought her from Ireland at all." Saoirse watched now, her sorrow and upset over everything that had happened between them rising to a new level.

"What changed your mind, Eric? You made her sound like your perfect match." Eric's eyes, which had darted to her only briefly before, settled on her now, the coldness of his gaze seeming to thaw for one instant and then becoming even more chillingly arctic.

"When I saw her again, I realized that I had been wrong. She was not worth what I had been willing to pay for her."

Whatever else was said, whatever else was done that night, Saoirse could not remember later when she finally fell into her bed near dawn. Eric's final words before bowing to Halbjorn and leaving the hall were the only things that she heard, the only things she could feel, and they bounced around in her head, knocked at her chest and filled her with such deep pain that she could barely breathe.

He had been coming back for her. He had meant every word of the promise she had so easily put aside. She had foolishly thought they would never see each other again, but he had always known they would. If only she had been honest with him, could things have been different? Did she still wish that they were? As the lure of sleep's blissful oblivion pulled her back into its embrace, she was not sure.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Just a really low key chapter- a little calm before the storm coming up next. Thank you again and as always to everyone who has taken the time to review, put this story on alert and in their favorites. I'm so grateful! You guys rock!_

_I have to shout out my Beta: Sheknitsnicely! Girl I love you! Thank you so much for putting up with me!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, that's no surprise…._

Saoirse awoke the next day to the feeling of hands shaking her. Looking up groggily from the surprisingly comfortable bed, she saw Amena pulling back the thick velvet curtains from the window and letting in the late morning sun.

"Uhh?" Was the only thing she could bring herself to say as she shielded her eyes from the east facing casement and the bright gust of summer air that blew in from it.

"Don't 'uhh' me, girl. Up with you. We've much to do today!" Saoirse could not remember Amena ever being in such a…well…enthusiastic mood. Turning from the window, Amena gathered her mistress' heavy velvet robe and held it out for her.

Saoirse could only groan as she realized there would be no fighting with Amena and no returning to her sleep. Stepping out of the bed and into the robe, she sat at the small table by the unlit fire and began to eat breakfast.

"Once you've finished we must dress you, and then you have people to greet." Amena bustled about, pulling out dresses with her usual critical eye and assessing which one would be best for the morning.

"And what work is that?" Saoirse tried to keep the smile off her face as Amena deemed one dress too nice for the morning's duties and another not nice enough, until she had at last settled her judicious eye on a gown of purple silk and a dark red shift to go under it.

"The Lady Haldis stopped by just before dawn, after you were already abed, to say that the Human ladies of the court would be presenting themselves this morning to seek positions as Ladies in waiting. Many of them have already arrived, though it looks as if they aren't quite used to being up this early." Amena said the last with a bit of disapproval, but Saoirse could only think that her own internal sense of time was already shifting: it could not be much before noon and she would happily still be in bed if not for her overzealous nurse.

Taking the throne in her audience chamber a short while later, Saoirse sat quietly with Amena standing beside her as she was introduced, one by one, to the ladies of the court who wished to serve her. She knew before even meeting them that she would take most of them, using her ability to root out and turn away only those who came with ill intent, either to spy on her for their Vampire masters or to cause harm.

Most of them had no such ulterior motive, and yet Saoirse was surprised both by how alike they all were and how much she disliked them. By and large they all reminded her of her Fairy cousins: beautiful, petty, vain and selfish. They thought themselves better than others because, unlike the unfortunates that became nothing more than meals for Vampires, they had been kept; but most of them felt nothing more for the Vampires to whom they were attached than greed for their wealth or desire to use them to gain a better position and, of course, lust. They were at once fearful of their companions and excited by that fear, and they were all of them well versed in the arts of sex and willing to do whatever it took to keep their Vampire companions and, if possible, to exchange them for another, better one.

Amena motioned for the last girl to approach the dais and Saoirse watched as she walked up to her with great confidence. The girl was nothing short of stunning, with long ebony hair and magnificent eyes that appeared to be almost purple in color. She was young, perhaps no older than fifteen, but Saoirse could see the fire of ambition burning in her unique eyes.

Curtsying gracefully, the girl answered all of her questions with ease and charm, making the proper responses and showing the proper respect, but Saoirse was shocked by her mind. She belonged to a relatively low Vampire in Halbjorn's court and she knew it. She hoped that, by being in the company of the Queen, she would attract the attention of someone higher up. She wasn't picky about who, anyone who could improve her situation in life would be welcomed, but she had for a long time had her hopes set on Eric.

Saoirse could see plainly from her thoughts that the girl was infatuated with him, which was not entirely surprising or shocking. Most of the "ladies" she'd met today had at least one stray thought about him. This one thought him young and wild, beautiful and dangerous, and she was piqued by the fact that he had turned her down without a second glance on many occasions. The girl, Dagny, thought it odd that, unlike so many of the other Vampires who enjoyed the companionship of Humans, Eric never seemed to like anyone beyond a single night, and she was determined to change his mind, if he would only give her the chance.

Saoirse could not control the raging jealousy that suddenly overtook her as the girl's thoughts of Eric began to become more images than words. She found herself nearly trembling with her failing attempts to temper it as Dagny imagined all the ways in which she could ensnare the beautiful, cold and emotionless Lord Commander. Getting up quickly from her chair, even as the girl was midway through answering some insignificant question or another, Saoirse turned to Amena.

"You finish up. Decide who does what, it is of no matter to me." She said, speaking more harshly to her nurse than she had ever spoken to anyone and fleeing the room. She barely registered the looks of surprise from Amena or the girl before she was out the chamber door and striding quickly down the halls, her skirts flying around her legs.

She didn't know why this new little bit of information hurt so much, but it did. It hurt badly and she felt her carefully constructed façade of indifference towards Eric beginning to crumble. With each little revelation she came to understand that, whatever had happened between them since, Eric had been genuine in his feelings for her. If the girls' thoughts were to be believed, he had loved her when he had never given anyone else a second look. From last night, she knew that he had been coming back for her, intent on parting with who knew how much wealth to buy the freedom of the servant girl she had led him to believe she was.

He had shown himself to be cold, angry and violent in the days they had known each other as they really were; yet she began to wonder, as she had not since the night he'd tried to hurt her, if all that was not really the mask, the cold being just a defense for emotions he was entirely unused to controlling.

She knew that, for Fairies, deep emotion usually triggered instinctual responses. Anger, grief, even desire often seemed to overwhelm the more rational, humanlike parts of their brains. She knew hardly anything about Vampires, but she supposed they were probably not much different. They were, after all, every bit as predatory and fearsome as Fairies. She didn't want to forgive Eric for what he had done, but she also knew that, when she had struggled against him and thrown off his glamour, he had stopped. The reasoning behind his actions, if there was any at all, was confusing at best. He would have gladly compelled her to comply, yet he would not force her when he failed to gain that compliance. Still, she could not forget the look that had been on his face when he had realized she would not give in. At first it had been astonishment that she had thwarted his attempt at controlling her, but then it quickly morphed into shame that he had tried. It was as though his anger had turned off the human part of him and her surprising reaction had somehow turned it back on.

Saoirse reminded herself then, as she had so often in the past, that she could never claim ignorance of what he was. The danger, the darkness, was a part of him. It was a part that she had been more than willing to accept until it was turned on her. And yet perhaps, after all, they were not the only part of him. She wished wholeheartedly that she could have just one moment with him: one moment when resentment was not the first thing he felt so that they could try to understand each other. If only she could see him as he really was, maybe she could finally find out if the Eric she thought she knew on her beach was really in there. She had felt, just before he began to speak to her that night on the boat, that he was, but since then she had allowed her own hurt and anger to keep her from looking for him again.

The questions that swirled in Saoirse's brain seemed endless and unanswerable and, after a time, she thought to finally look up and see where her distressed musings had brought her. She was surprised to see that they had carried her out of the confines of the castle walls completely and into the most fragrant and enchanting rose garden.

The smell of the blooms, large and soft and of every beautiful color, enveloped her and she found herself lifting her face to the bright, glowing sun and allowing it and the sweet flowers to shroud her and calm her senses. Never, in all her imaginings, would she have believed that her fearsome, vicious Vampire betrothed would have something as beautiful as _this_ hidden in his dark, nightmare fortress.

The garden was a work of art unlike anything Saoirse had ever seen, even in her beautiful emerald-colored homeland. The stone walls that enclosed the garden had been strung with sticks on which the rose bushes had been bent, allowing them to run up and down the walls, completely covering them. The rose bushes in the ground grew tall and beautiful, making their own interior enclosures in which were hidden here and there statues, small ponds with lovely fish, and even a rabbit hutch or two.

Saoirse followed the paths made by the flowers, admiring their reds, whites, pinks and yellows, until she came to the center of the garden where she found a small, well-dressed woman, cuddling a tiny white bunny in her arms. Saoirse was shocked to find that the woman, whose beautiful red hair was now twisted into a lovely braid, shot through with ribbon, was the same girl that had sat at Halbjorn's feet the night before. The sound of Saoirse's dress rustling in the afternoon breeze caught the attention of the girl and she turned around suddenly, a wary look in her eyes.

"I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you." Saoirse said, holding her hands up in a gesture of peace. The girl contemplated her for one more long moment before she nodded and closed the few steps that separated them, holding out the little rabbit for Saoirse to inspect. Raising her hand gently, she let just the tip of one finger run down the little creature's soft body, from the crown of his head to his little puffy tail. The girl laughed at the look of contentment that painted Saoirse's face as she felt the small animal's lovely soft fur.

"He's adorable is he not? I love rabbits. I always felt so horrible when my papa would send me to empty the traps so we could have them for dinner. They are so sweet and so defenseless. It always seemed so wrong to hurt them." Saoirse laughed a little as well, surprised both by the girl's candor and her innocent kindness.

"He is uncommonly sweet. Perhaps we should spare him the fate of becoming dinner." The girl looked up at her and her smile lessened just a little bit.

"His Majesty allows me to keep all the rabbits in the garden. They are all safe." Saoirse was taken back for just a moment but then nodded, realizing the girl must be scared that she would try to change things. Seeing a bench close by, she stretched out her hand, hoping the girl would consent to sit with her for a little while. When she did, Saoirse smiled brightly, attempting to calm her.

"I'm Saoirse." She said simply, knowing the girl already knew who she was. The girl hesitated again for a moment and then smiled brightly back, understanding that Saoirse desired to be no threat.

"I am Brynja." She replied with equal simplicity.

"I am glad to know you Brynja." The girl smiled again.

"Is it true that you can read people's minds?" She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her judgment for just a moment, before she put her hand over her mouth and began to apologize through it. Saoirse only laughed. She had seen many different reactions to the knowledge of her gift in her life, but almost no one had sounded so innocently intrigued by it. She was mostly used to anger and suspicion being the first responses, and it seemed to reinforce Saoirse's feeling that this girl was worth getting to know

"Please, it's alright. I'm not angry. Yes, I can read minds. Human minds." She replied gently, hoping her tone would put the girl at ease.

"Are you reading my mind now?" She asked, surprising Saoirse, once more, in that she looked more curious than angry or worried or scared.

"No, I can block people's thoughts out if I try, and truthfully, I don't want to know every little thought everyone has. Those things aren't meant to be heard." The girl nodded, seeming to contemplate that for a moment.

"It must be very hard." She said after a long while. Saoirse looked up at the sky and contemplated her answer for a moment before responding. No one had ever truly asked her such a question. No one ever seemed to care. Most people were only concerned about what secrets she might find out, others about what secrets she could find out for them. Even her grandfather, who had taught her how to control her gift, had always focused more on the practical necessity of helping her deal with it than on the emotional hardship that it caused, though she had no doubt he understood that very well.

"It was very confusing to me as a child, and it hasn't ever made me any friends, but I'm beginning to see a new side to it as well. It saved the life of someone I…loved very much once, and his Majesty finds enough value in it to offer me a better life than I would have expected here. So perhaps, though I have never liked it, it might come to be of some use to me." Saoirse answered, with more honesty than she could have anticipated she would have.

"His Majesty would have offered you that life, mind reading or not." Saoirse looked over at the other woman and felt her eyebrows rising in shock. She knew that, between the two of them, they were circling around a conversation that needed to be had, but she hadn't realized that it would happen so soon.

"Why is that?" Saoirse asked, feeling it better to let the girl tell her than to admit she had pulled at least some of the details out of her head already.

"You could read it out of my mind if you wanted to, couldn't you?" The girl smiled at her knowingly, the answer already apparent. Saoirse only nodded her head, again realizing that there was much about the woman beside her that was surprising and worth knowing.

"I could, but I find that friendships are better started on the equal footing of honesty." This time it was Brynja's turn to raise her eyebrows, but Saoirse found she was relieved to see that it was quickly accompanied by another genuine smile. Saoirse was shocked to realize that, when the girl smiled, all the plainness disappeared from her face and instead she became truly pretty, as if the sweetness and life within her smile infused her whole face.

"I come from a village not far from here. My parents were simple farmers burdened with three daughters and no sons who lived to adulthood. I was the eldest of them, and the year of my twelfth birthday was particularly bad. There were terrible frosts and the crops failed. There was hardly anything to eat, and we had too many mouths to feed. When a man from a neighboring village came to my parents and offered to marry me, they were thrilled. One less mouth to feed, a little more money to buy the food we couldn't grow, and their homeliest daughter gotten out of the way.

I never expected to marry for anything other than to please my family of course, but I was deeply unhappy. He was much older than I was, and fat and ugly. He had recently lost his own wife in child birth and had a house full of small ones that needed taking care of. I knew I was no beauty, nor would I ever be, but when it came down to it I simply couldn't accept that this would be my lot in life, so one night I ran.

It was a foolish, stupid thing to do. I had almost nothing to take with me: no food, no money and nothing worth selling for it. I would have starved or frozen to death in a matter of days, but I never got the chance. The second night, while I was making a fire, I knew I was being watched. I was terrified and ran. I'm sure you've already realized this, but it's about the worst thing you can do…running from a Vampire." She laughed softly at that memory. Saoirse didn't know that per se , but would remember that from now on. "It was Halbjorn. He was hunting in the forests. He would no doubt have drained me dry for the fun of it, but I guess I shocked him." Saoirse found herself curious as to what the slight girl in front of her had done to save her life.

"What did you do?" Brynja laughed a little, lifting the skirt of her dress slightly and kicking the air in front of her with her foot.

"He knocked me to the ground, roughly falling on top of me, and turned me around ready to rip my throat out. I should have been scared for my life - I was - but for some reason I'm not even sure of to this day, I looked him square in the eye and kicked him, as hard as I could in the knee." Saoirse could feel her impressed shock, but she kept it to herself. "I doubt it hurt him even in the slightest, but he was so surprised that I didn't scream or cry for mercy or just lie there and wait for the end, that he actually stopped. Instead of killing me, he threw me on the back of his horse and brought me here. Sometimes I think he's been trying for ten years to work up the courage to finally kill me, but he never does." To say that the last words out of Brynja's mouth had shocked her would not have been strong enough. She had felt, unequivocally, from this girl that she loved Halbjorn, and yet she seemed to not even blink at the suggestion that her lover, at least on some level, might kill her at any moment.

"Are you not terrified of him?" Saoirse could not help herself from asking, feeling her own hand come up to cover the inappropriate question. Brynja looked at her for a long moment, her moss green eyes, searching Saoirse's for something Saoirse could not quite understand, just as Halbjorn had done the night before. Seeming satisfied with what she saw, the girl answered her without hesitation.

"No. I know that he loves me. I just also know that he hates that he loves me. It pricks his Vampiric pride that such a vicious, old creature as himself, could feel something so… human. But as much as he hates to feel that love, he would never act against it. At first I was terrified of all the Vampires here, of all the Vampires everywhere I guess, but over the years I've come to understand some things about them. Not all of them are good of course, but there are ones that are. They hide though. They hide and bury everything that they used to be in order to survive, but it's all still there under the surface if you look hard enough… if they find something in you worth letting you see it." Saoirse felt her throat constrict at that simple and profound statement. She felt suddenly as though all her questions and worries from earlier had come into clear focus. Without even realizing it, Brynja had answered them, and the knowledge that she had given made Saoirse all the more sad, because she knew then that she could not continue to pretend that she had been mistaken in Eric.

"If he loves you, why has he not married you?" Saoirse found herself asking, not wanting to think anymore, at that moment, about her own worries. Instead, she desired to hear more about this girl and more of her startling wisdom with regard to these creatures, who were so different and so seemingly frightening. Brynja's face fell from a smile into sadness.

"I am a weakness for him. The more interest he shows in me, the more dangerous that weakness becomes. He has kept me for ten years already and that has put us both in enough danger. But if he were to marry me, there would be no doubt that he cared for me beyond what other Vampires considered appropriate. It would put me in danger and compromise his authority. It's why he would always have offered you this life here. You aren't just a symbol to his enemies, you are an acceptable wife. No one will assume that you are here because of affection, making him look fearsome and evil, as he wishes to be seen and, with you as wife, no one will assume that I mean as much to him as I do." Saoirse felt shocked by the girl's pragmatism. Though she said she would not, she felt herself opening her mind just a little bit, not enough to get thoughts from the girl; but enough to feel if she was being honest. Astonishingly, Saoirse found that she was.

"Does that not hurt you?" This time Saoirse asked the question with real concern. With each moment they spoke, Saoirse felt herself drawn to the girl and, though they had known each other for less than a few hours, she already had no wish to hurt her, which she felt she must do if she married, if only in name, the man that Brynja loved.

"Not at all. You are not here by choice. I know that you have no desire to take him from me and you have accepted his offer. Speaking to you now I don't believe that, even knowing the truth, you would seek to use it against us. I wonder very much how this will all work, but I am hopeful and grateful, that we can all be a help to each other." Brynja's voice was soft as she looked at the other woman. She had no idea why, but she felt she could trust the part Fairy. There was a gentleness about her that Brynja had noticed, even last night, and after years of being alone, surrounded by humans who were no longer in their right mind, or who hung on the Vampires as though _they _were the leaches, she felt that perhaps Saoirse might not just help Halbjorn, but herself as well. It might have been a foolish hope, but Brynja had long ago learned to trust her instincts when it came to people, and right now they told her that the Fairy Princess was no enemy.

"And it will not bother you if he…feeds on me?" Saoirse did not know if it was a common thing for Vampires to feed from anyone even if they chose, however discreetly, to be faithful to only one mate, but she remembered vividly her jealousy when Eric had told her that he needed more than just her blood. Looking at Brynja now, she saw the first look of sign of real sadness cross the girl's face.

"I do not like the idea, but Halbjorn feeds from many different women and glamours them all to believe that he does other things as well. I accept it because it is for our safety and because I cannot feed him myself." Saoirse knew that they hardly knew each other enough for her to ask, but as before she could not stop herself.

"Why?" Brynja laughed, but this time it was filled with bitterness.

"There is something wrong with me. My blood does not replenish itself correctly. The last time Halbjorn fed on me was many years ago and he stopped because I did almost die that time. He had to heal me, but he cannot do that often, or we would form a bond that other Vampires would be able to detect. Again, it would be dangerous and it would lead to discovery. So instead he feeds on others, but I know that is all."

"I know I have no right to say this, but you've given up a great deal to be with him, have you not?" Again Brynja laughed, but this time it was not so harsh.

"Yes and no. This is not the life I thought I would have when I was a girl: the secret lover of a person most people view as a monster, accepting what he offers and attempting to wish for no more. But then I could never have had the life I dreamed of. I was to be married to an old man and, no doubt, condemned to die unloved and unwanted, baring one of his many children. So truly I cannot say that I am unhappy. I am well cared for and well loved. Does anyone have the right to ask for more than that?" Saoirse had no answer for that. She had no way of knowing what her life would have been if she had let Eric take her away as he had wanted to, but she doubted it would have been easy. Yet, if she was honest with herself, she would have been happy just to be with him and to have had the love of such a man.

"I would like very much to be a help to both of you and to live here in peace." Saoirse replied, feeling a wide, happy smile turning up her features for the first time this day. "Brynja, I know it might seem strange, but I wish to ask you for something." The girl seemed curious and gestured that Saoirse should continue. "There have been many ladies presenting themselves today to become part of my household. In truth I don't like any of them. They are…." Saoirse trailed off, looking for the most tactful word, when Brynja's voice finished her sentence unexpectedly.

"Horrible." Saoirse nodded, laughing just a little bit.

"Indeed. I don't want to be around them day in and day out, but I don't see a choice in the matter. I would like to have…a real companion, someone besides my nurse who I brought with me. Would it be wrong of me to ask you?" Brynja smiled the bright smile that made her whole face light with beauty and Saoirse felt the breath she had been holding release.

"I would be honored, your Majesty." She replied formally, the smile painting her face never faltering.

"As would I, Madame. You would do me a great honor if you would consent to be my principle Lady in waiting." Saoirse replied, with equal formality, before both of them broke their façade with gentle, nervous laughter.

Replacing the little bunny back in his hutch, the two women walked out of the rose garden and Saoirse was more than relieved that Brynja actually knew the way back to her chambers. She had been so distracted with her own sorrows when she left that she could not remember even which direction she had come from.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Hi! Another Monday, another chapter. I'm so sorry that last chapter was Eric-less (it should be a crime, but I'm thankful it's not…yet) so to make it up here is an entire chapter where he isn't absent for even a moment! _

_Just the usual huge, HUGE thanks to everyone who's been reviewing this story, or put it on alert and in their favorites. It totally blows me away, and I can't thank you enough! And SUPER BIG thanks to my beta Sheknitsnicely, it's serious work being my beta- and she's just out of this world! I love you! Okay, I'm rambling, I'll stop!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own them…._

The castle was bursting at the seams as the wedding guests arrived. Eric watched from atop the inner battlements as Halbjorn's subjects, lesser Kings and Queens, Sheriffs and the like from all over the north, flooded through the castle gates with their trains of servants, pets and hangers on in tow.

The Fairies, the Humans, almost all the other races, believed Halbjorn to be a dreadful and frightening creature, who no doubt spent the nights he was not fighting slaughtering virgins in the Great Hall for amusement: but his people knew differently. He was a man who enjoyed excess in all its forms: the excess of violence that was battle, the excess of flesh that was sex and the excess of enjoyment which was clearly to be displayed tonight, as the Vampires that practically besieged the castle were alight with excitement, anticipating the wedding celebration that would no doubt devolve into the most debauched revelry in recent memory. Under different circumstances, Eric would have shared in the exhilaration of the anticipation. He would have been downstairs mingling among the crowd and enjoying the entertainments to come. He shared Halbjorn's love for adventure and excitement and it had been his King who, in so many ways, had given him back his true self. Halbjorn had taught him to bring together the best things about his Vampire existence with the best traits he had possessed as a human, helping him to again find the joy in living that his maker had so nearly stamped out for good.

But Halbjorn had never prepared him for the possibility of Sookie. She had come into his life like the dawn over the horizon, illuminating every part of him that he had kept hidden, repressed and tamped down and had drawn them out and now, even when her light had been removed from him, he could not seem to put himself back to rights.

He should not be here, far above the celebration that was already beginning to take shape, brooding and alone. He should be down with the others, down with his men, mingling, searching the hall for a beautiful woman to spend the night with. Yet nothing seemed less appealing. His anger at her, his rage at her lies and her betrayal, had not lessened - he would not allow them to - but, even as his mind strove to convince him that he hated her, his heart and his body knew differently. Nothing else stirred him, no one else appealed to him. She had gotten beneath the surface of him and wormed her way into every last bit of his being and she would not let go. He could not have been more bewitched by her if she had used Fae magic to ensnare him. At times he prayed that she had, so that he could have a worthy excuse for the weakness she still caused in him.

"At last, we find him!" A large voice called out from behind Eric, startling him out of his depressive contemplations. Turning, he looked on the form of Wallace appearing from within the doorway to the west tower and behind him Halbjorn. The two Vampires took up position on either side of him and looked down to see what Eric found so interesting. "We have been looking for you everywhere. What on earth are you doing up here looking down on the fun? " The burley Scottish Vampire asked. Though amusement was at the forefront of his voice, Eric could detect the slight hint of worry there as well. He was not himself and everyone was becoming aware of it. When it was clear that Eric would make no answer, Halbjorn spoke for him.

"No doubt he is still pining away for his little servant girl." Eric looked over to find a solemn expression on his Master's face. "You still have not told me the whole story, Eric." Nor will I ever, thought Eric, immediately feeling a fresh return of both his anger towards Sookie and his own guilt for having touched what so clearly now could never belong to him.

"She was not who I thought she was. There is nothing more to it than that." Eric saw Wallace's almost infinitesimal wince out of the corner of his eye, but it was Halbjorn's expression that caught his attention. There was the look on his King's face of understanding. As though, at some point in his long life, Halbjorn had allowed himself to feel as well, and had also come to regret it.

"And yet she remains with you." Halbjorn had not phrased it as a question, and Eric was grateful that this meant he did not have to give an answer, did not have to admit to his weakness out loud. Instead he waited patiently to find out what his King would suggest as a cure. He prayed silently that there was one. For if the seven centuries old Vampire King in front of him knew no relief from this accursed grief that was eating him alive, he might simply lay down and let the sun swallow him this time.

Eric was shocked when he felt the weight of Halbjorn's hand on his shoulder. Vampires rarely touched, even three as closely connected by the bonds of brotherhood and battle as he and his two companions.

"There's no help for it, but to do what you've always done, until you no longer desire to do differently anymore." Cold comfort indeed, Eric found himself thinking.

"In that case we'll need to use the superior height advantage Eric has so generously given us to find several beauties worth his time. Eric has over four weeks of fucking to make up for!" Wallace laughed out, gruff, graceless and crude as always, but in truth he was concerned. The whole situation was a bonfire waiting to ignite and, knowing the truth far better than anyone else, he could not bring himself to stop worrying. He worried about what might happen if Halbjorn found out, though he felt sure Halbjorn would not actually blame Eric for being deceived.

He worried that Eric's melancholy was becoming apparent to one and all, and that could do naught but put his comrade in danger. Eric had risen high young and there were many who would gladly take the opportunity, if presented with it, to knock him back down. But beyond both of these things, he worried because he saw quite clearly, as obviously neither Eric nor the Princess did, that what was between them was not resolved.

Over the past few days, when forced to be together, they danced around each other coldly, putting on a show of being at best indifferent to one another and at worst openly hostile, but the act was as thin as parchment. It wouldn't take long for others to realize that their intense 'hatred' of one another was merely passion and longing denied.

"And what have we here?" Wallace said, allowing his over jovial nature to take the reigns as he attempted to push down his nervous musings. Both of his companions looked down, scrutinizing the newest party to arrive.

"Ah, it appears we will be graced with the presences of her Highness after all." Halbjorn answered in a slightly sour tone while looking down. He could not say that he was pleased to see the Queen of Otstergotland, but neither was he surprised that she was here. She never omitted an opportunity to cause trouble.

"I doubt one such as her would have missed this." Eric remarked, joining his stare to those of the two other Vampires as they watched Queen Freyda's party move through the inner defenses and to the courtyard where they dismounted. The lesser Queen's party was vast and unruly, but she paid no attention to any of them as she lifted her head to the sky and set her gaze to rest exactly where the three Vampires looked down on her. Pulling back the hood of her velvet, fur trimmed riding cloak to reveal her wealth of long pale blond hair, she quirked an ashen colored eyebrow and smiled seductively, all the while making a sweeping curtsey.

"I think we may have found you the perfect distraction, eh?" Wallace laughed, clearly affected by the stunning Queen's charms, despite the fact that they should have all known better by now.

Eric could only sigh. Freyda would no doubt present the same problem that she always did. She was terrible at taking no for an answer and he'd said no so many times he would have gone hoarse from it, were he a human. Though he admitted that he had enjoyed the night they'd spent together years ago, and though he usually enjoyed the games they played and found sport in riling the elegant woman below only to leave her hanging, he felt absolutely no desire to play them now. She was beautiful and a talented bed partner, but she was also dangerous and spiteful. He had no intention of allowing her to get her hooks in him again, even if the brief oblivion she offered could erase Sookie from his mind for more than just a moment.

"Come, let's head in before she climbs the battlements." Halbjorn commanded, leading the way back through the tower door.

.oO~*~Oo.

Saoirse could only think, as she looked at the absolute crush of beings who filled the Great Hall, that she had never dreamed that such a side existed to these creatures she had grown up being taught to fear. She was fairly certain that every Vampire in the room was perfectly adept at the arts of violence and murder but, at the moment, they had centered all of their considerable energy on enjoying a party, and it produced quite an effect.

The wedding ceremony itself had been dignified and royal in the extreme. It seemed that her Vampire King did nothing by halves. The secondary hall they had used had been packed to bursting with Halbjorn's royalty and nobility. The ceremony, taking place under the light of hundreds of candles hung from above their heads and mounted on braziers around the room, had been solemn, with Saoirse walking down an aisle that seemed to part like the red sea to make way for her, carrying a sacred knife, which she presented to Halbjorn before all his people and which he then used to make a tiny incision in both their fingers. They had exchanged just a drop of blood each, which was enough, he had explained, to make his claim on her official and their union had been solidified.

Afterwards he had led her through to the throne room, sat her upon her white marble throne, and placed a crown that had been specially made for her on her head. He had been as good as his word. She had been treated well and made his true Queen, all in exchange for using a gift she could barely turn off anyway and keeping a secret that she now held as dear as if it were her very own. Looking over at Brynja, who stood at the head of the crowd, her face serene and her head held high, she smiled at her new friend and received a reassuring wink in return. This marriage did not truly make her a wife, but in some ways she felt as though it brought her an entirely unexpected family.

Halbjorn was nothing if not fascinating to her. He kept a very strict façade of fearsomeness in public, but in private was not very much different from her own grandfather: strong, wise, loyal, sometimes jovial and surprisingly protective of those he considered 'his'. He had not only kept his word to her about the comfort she would have here, but had allowed her to become a part of his inner circle. She had grown close to Brynja in so short a time, she marveled, that it felt as though they had always known each other. She found that she had even begun to like and consider several of the other Vampires of the court as friends. Halbjorn's sister Haldis, who was both his human sibling and shared a maker with him, was seemingly cold by all outward appearance, but in point of fact was merely thoughtful and when approached correctly, would talk for long periods of time on topics that Saoirse found to be of great importance to her new life; explaining to her everything from how the Vampire hierarchy worked to who held what positions of importance at court. Wallace, Halbjorn's first lieutenant and the second in command of his armies, who was also apparently one of his closest comrades, had disappeared from the ship that brought her here the night of her fight with Eric, but he was ever present at the castle and always with Halbjorn if there was nothing to be done. She found the company of the giant Scot quite enjoyable: he was vulgar and graceless but he had a heart, surprisingly.

The only sadness had been Eric, who she discovered was Halbjorn's other close companion. After her first conversation with Brynja, she had thought of little else but him and the way he had behaved and she wanted nothing more than to make peace with him. Her feelings for him were so confused but she tried to tell herself, for so many reasons, they could never have back what they had lost. She felt sure that he no longer even looked at her as the same person he had shared so much with, yet she had hoped that they could find a way to move past it, since they had little choice in sharing company. He clearly did not share her desire though. When they were together, which was only in the company of the others, he continued to be cold. His behavior hurt her more than she was willing to admit and she found herself responding to it with anger and drawing them, several times, into arguments that she had no doubt would have escalated into violence if not for the presence of Halbjorn, Haldis and Wallace.

Once the crown had been placed on her head, the onlookers had sunk to their knees one and all declaring their fealty to her as Queen. But once they rose, all semblance of dignity and solemnity evaporated. Celebration was now the order of the night.

They had quickly made their way to the Great Hall, which had been ringed with trestle tables bearing food and wine for the humans. Sitting at the high table, Halbjorn had made an excessively short speech and then the festivities had truly begun. The musicians struck up a tune, the guests began to dance and enjoy themselves and the entire atmosphere of the room changed into one of crazed revelry. Saoirse watched in rapt fascination as everyone gave themselves over to the joyous atmosphere and was startled when she found Wallace standing at her elbow. Bowing in a courtly manor that she hadn't thought the large Vampire capable of, he smiled wide, fangs down and held out his hand.

"My lady, will you honor me?" He asked, his voice rumbling with merriment. Feeling unable to say no to his kind gesture or the infectious excitement emanating throughout the room and invading her, she laughed in reply and stood, taking his hand. As they walked to the center of the room the dance halted, the revelers bowing to her. Wallace walked her to one side and took the other, standing between Eric and the King of Vastergotland. The musicians started a lively new tune and they all began to dance.

Saoirse could not help her happy laughter as she twirled and turned with the other women in time to the music, coming closer to their partners in the steps of the dance and then flitting away. So engrossed was she in the dance, and the enjoyment that it brought, that it was only when it happened that she realized the music had ended and it was time to change partners down the line, bringing her to her new partner: Eric.

Saoirse looked up at him, sure that she would find him angry or indifferent as usual, and she began to speak, ready to release him from the obligation of having to dance with her, when she caught his eyes and the words died on her tongue. The look he gave her was almost wild as he also seemed to come to the realization that they were now paired. It caused her heart rate pick up for a new and entirely different reason. As they continued to gaze at each other the music began once more. It was considerably slower this time and, when they moved to take their starting positions, she found herself all but trapped in his ice cold embrace. She didn't know what to expect, didn't know if she should be frightened or if she should simply leave the floor but, when her arms, almost of their own will, closed around him as well, the anger and the disdain that he always wore seemed to melt from his eyes and what she saw underneath them was undeniable. She found herself once again, entirely unexpectedly, held by the man who loved her.

In that moment, the hall and the other revelers seemed to fade away, becoming hazy and indistinct. All she saw was him, all she heard was the music, languid, dark and enchanting, seeming to pull out of them the still churning emotions they had so willfully tried to extinguish. They moved as one around the floor, swaying and turning as if they had been dancing this dance since time itself began, breaking apart till only the tips of their fingers touched and then coming together again. When he lifted her into his arms for the final turn, she felt her breath leave her as she was raised effortlessly until their faces where only inches apart, his burning eyes boring into hers.

"Eric." The word left her mouth as a whispered plea as she held onto the hard muscles of his shoulders, desperately trying to keep him near. He lowered her back to the ground slowly, sliding her along the length of his body and setting her on the stone floor, still held tightly against him. She felt the sudden clear effect of her body on his pressing into her stomach, his hands gripping her hips almost reflexively to bring himself into firmer contact with her, and knew that he too was remembering the last time they had been this close to each other, when nothing had been between them, no secrets, no lies, not even the thin barriers of their clothing.

"Will I never find release from this desperate craving for you?" He asked, his voice rough and pained, all his sorrow and grief rolling off the words as though they would shield him from the pain they had caused each other, from the passion and the anger that still swirled endlessly between them. She was sure that he would have kissed her right there, in front of the entire room, would have devoured her whole, heedless of who looked on, if it had not been for the woman who invaded their shared fantasy, giving her a light but entirely ungentle push.

"I believe the North man is mine for this dance, Majesty." Looking over, shocked, as the room came into sharp relief once again, Saoirse saw the woman, the Vampire, who stood next to them. She was the most beautiful woman Saoirse could ever remember laying eyes on; taller than her by more than a head, with long pale blond hair and eyes of a bluish green so much like the ocean they seemed to glitter. She also saw the look on the woman's face as she gave the entirety of her attention to Eric. It was lustful, hungry and filled with barely repressed desire.

If he could have formed words in that moment he would have told Freyda to rot in the sun. He would have expressed to her his undying disdain of her, but he could not. It was all he could do to make his fingers release Sookie, when all they wanted was to keep her pressed to him until dawn called him away. He longed to find the icy anger that had sustained him all these days in her presence, but it had fled him. All he could feel was the overwhelming need to drag her from the room and rediscover all the beautiful plains and valleys of her lush form; to fall to his knees at her feet and beg her to explain why she had lied, why she had deceived him, when he loved her so.

Yet, he did none of those things. Instead he made his hands come back down to his sides and bowed stiffly to his Queen, releasing her and turning to Freyda with a cold smile. Needing no other encouragement, Freyda took his hand and they began to move to the strains of the new tune, thankfully faster and less intimate than the one that had just ended.

"She is quite the little pixie, your new Queen." Freyda laughed coldly as she took his hands and all but led him through the steps.

"She is my Queen and she is Halbjorn's. You would do well to show her the respect she is due." He replied coldly, already wishing that the dance was over.

"Indeed. And yet, you look at her almost as if you wish she was yours." Eric felt his control, already taxed from the restraint being so near Sookie required, beginning to falter.

"I look at her with esteem, something you should probably learn to at least feign if you do not wish to find yourself on the wrong side of your sovereign's sword." To this, Fredya only laughed her grating, frigid laugh, which set his fangs on edge.

"Let us talk of other things, my fine warrior, much more pleasant things, like you and I." The dance brought them near once more and he felt her hands slide down his chest, coming perilously close to the bindings of his pants.

"I have told you before. Do you really need me to say it again? I do not wish for there to be any 'you and I'" The smile dropped from Freyda's eyes in that moment and he clearly saw her fangs glistening from beneath her full red lips.

"You don't really think I believe that do you? I know you enjoyed yourself greatly when last we…spent time together. Why do you deny it now and refuse me?" To the night he met his final death he knew he would regret the one and only time he had given in to the desire of this woman and bedded her. To him it had been a night of many pleasures, but nothing more. To her it had started what he feared had become something of an obsession and, no matter how much he refused her requests for a repeat, she still came back, shamelessly believing herself and her skills to be far more addictive than they were.

"I do not care what you believe, but I promise you that you will not get what you want from me ever again." He bit out, finally reaching the end of his patience with her. Giving her one last cold glare he left her standing in the middle of the floor and retreated to the high table to take his place at Halbjorn's left side.

If he had looked back, he would have seen the dangerous glare that she gave his retreating form and would have understood that he had played with her for the last time. Looking around, she found her next target. Indeed, she would show him that no one refused her, no matter who he was. She slid up to Wallace who was just bowing to his partner.

"I believe you are mine for this dance, Scotsman." She said, giving him her most seductive smile. She knew that he was an inveterate womanizer and, though she had never had any desire to feel him rutting above her, she felt sure that he could give her what she wanted right now.

"Indeed, fair Lady, I am." He smiled, clearly ignorant of what had just transpired. Smiling wickedly, she took his hand and was thankful that the next dance was slower. She waited until they had moved to the far corner of the room and then pulled him away to a small alcove created by the velvet hangings.

"You are very close to my favorite North man, are you not?" She asked, allowing the burly Scott to paw at her backside as she held him near.

"As close as he lets anyone get." She smiled at him again, allowing her fangs to show and a look of feigned desire to paint her face. Leaning in as if to kiss him, she caught his gaze and held it, allowing her very unique Vampiric gift loose and claiming his mind with her glamour.

"Tell me why he refuses me?" She said, low and enthralling.

"He turns down everyone, these days." Wallace replied, his voice vacant of any intonation. "He has not been himself since he returned from Ireland."

"Since fetching the Queen?" She prodded.

"Nay, since he attempted to kill the Fairy prince. He was wounded and met a girl there who cared for him. He has fallen in love with her." How quaint, she laughed, the terrifying, bloodthirsty warrior had fallen for a little, human girl. If that was all then she felt assured that her path back to his bed would be smooth indeed.

"And where is Eric's little human now?" She felt Wallace struggle against her grasp on his mind briefly, clearly unwilling to part with the information she desired. But, when she tightened her hold on him he was powerless to keep from answering her question.

"She is our Queen now." Freyda could not suppress the gasp of surprise that escaped her. What_ had_ she just stumbled upon?

"You will tell me everything you know, now." She commanded, again intensifying her hold on him, this time to the point of pain.

"The girl presented herself to him as a servant. She cared for him in an abandoned shack on the beach by the castle. When he was healed he left her, promising to return and claim her for his own. When he returned to fetch the Fairy princess, he found that she had lied and that they were one and the same."

"And are they lovers?"

"Nay, they fought bitterly on the boat when he discovered that she harbored other secrets as well. He has shown her nothing but coldness and disdain since then, but it is not genuine. He burns for her, he cannot remove her from his system, it is plain to see." Freyda laughed evilly. She wanted Eric, badly, but beyond that she loved a good game, and he had now presented her with quite an unexpected opportunity for amusement.

"And what other secrets does her Majesty hide." Wallace again tried to resist her, and again she strengthened her grip on him, careful this time to hurt him, but not cause lasting damage.

"She can read the minds of Humans." Oh, it was all too rich! Chuckling again as her plan took form, she stroked her hand down his cheek.

"Since you have been so helpful, I will reward you. You will remember nothing of this conversation when we rejoin the dance. Instead, I took you back here and let you have your way with me. It was the most wonderful sexual experience of your long and, no doubt, colorless life." With that she released him from her glamour, laughing throatily and leading the now smiling Scot back to the dance, completely unaware of his unintentional betrayal.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Finally Eric and Sookie are gonna talk! When I was answering some of the lovely reviews from last chapter (thank you guys, you're awesome!) I promised that Freyda was gonna do something so horrible this chapter it would force Eric to quit his teen-emo-angst fest and finally make peace with Sookie. So here it is, although consider this "the make-up" part 1. They still have a whole bunch of stuff to talk about (namely what's going to happen in this chapter) that they'll get to in the next chapter, but their officially back on track as of now!_

_As always I have to shout out my beta sheknitsnicely, I was a terrible person and gave her this chapter with less than 24 hours turn around and she did it, she even went out and hunted another computer to beta on when hers was giving her issues, all because SHE IS AWESOME! I love you! I promise I will never do that again!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, no one is surprised by that…._

The halls of the castle were dark, some still lit by dying torches and others only by the pale slivers of moonlight that filtered in through the slit casements. The night's revelry had ended: the Queen had been put in her King's bed and the guests, the Humans drunk on mead and wine and the Vampires drunk on their intoxicated blood , had long since coupled off in twos, threes and fours and retired behind closed doors to finish out the night in the most pleasurable of ways.

Eric wished, more than anything, that he could follow suit. It would be a release of the simplest kind to bury himself in the softness of a woman, to lose himself in the pleasures of her body and her blood. Many women had offered themselves to him tonight, all intensely beautiful, all intensely willing, all no doubt highly skilled, but none of them right. After holding her against his body, even for those few minutes, he could not bring himself to even consider taking another. He could not tell what gnawed at him more in this instant: the thought that Sookie was likely, at this moment, to be naked and writhing in Halbjorn's bed, giving him everything that Eric had once thought would belong only to him, or the fact that now, after their heated dance and in these darkened halls, when there was no one here to see, he could admit that his anger and hatred for her were less than useless.

Neither could stop the deep ache he felt for her, nor could they end his longing: they barely repressed his need. At their apex they allowed him to continue on without betraying the truth to his lord, King and friend, but when they ebbed again the yearning for her was still there, brighter and hotter than before. She had ceased to be the dawn and had become the sun itself to him, dangerous and frightening, unseeing and uncaring of the pain she caused him as he tried desperately to decide if he should run from her or allow himself to burn up in her glory.

She was now well and truly his King's, and yet in moments like this, when the darkness filled the night and the only sounds were echoes of the pleasure of others, all he wanted was to take her in his arms, bury his face in her soft fragrant hair, grip the alluring swells of her hips and let his mouth leave trails of desire down the long column of her neck into her soft, enticingly bitable breasts. Damn the consequences of it all. Would it ever end? Would he ever stop needing her, desiring her, loving her? Would he ever be free? He remembered their dance, from only hours before and how he had nearly lost himself in his passion for her; nearly betrayed to one and all this pathetic weakness for her.

Just as he felt himself ready to scream from the torment of these emotions, he heard the tinkling sound of laughter, high and bright, strange yet familiar all at once, in front of him. Looking up, immediately wary, he saw her, dressed in her wedding gown of red and gold. It was unlaced to bare her shoulders and the tops of her lovely full breasts, her hair flowing, golden and free behind her. She held a burning torch in her hand, lighting her way.

"Eric…." He heard her voice beckon as though from very far away, his name falling from her mouth like a prayer, the same way she had said it all those lifetimes ago on their beach, the same way she had said it just hours ago while he held her, suspended, above the dance floor. With another haunting, tinkling laugh, she seemed to turn round and round as if still dancing, only this time to a rhythm only she could hear, before darting down the hall, the light of the torch still illuminating the space where she had been.

He did not know why or how she could be here when she should be with the King, but he did know what compelled him to follow her. It was the same need and desire that he had cursed only minutes before and now it cared little for explanations or sense: it wanted her and she was here before him, so he would fight it no longer. Instead, he gave it free reign over his mind...his body.

Taking off after her, yet never seeming able to quite catch up to her, regardless of how fast he moved, he followed the light of her torch as it led him down the long stone corridors, up small circular steps and to an unused room in the east tower. The room was empty except for a table with a single golden goblet on it and a bed of furs before the fireplace which had been lit, casting an eerie glow over the entire space and the woman that was now standing in front of it.

She had been watching the fire when he entered, but now turned. If his heart had beat it would have stopped. Had she ever been as beautiful as she appeared in this moment? Had he ever desired her more? He felt sure she had… he had…yet he could not remember ever wanting her as he did right now. Perhaps it was the fact that she should be with another, or maybe it was the drunken, dream like quality of the night that seemed to seep into the pores of everyone in the castle, whether they indulged or not. For surely, he knew it was impossible, but he still felt as though he were drunk, as he had so many times as a human after a good fight and a round meal. And, as he had those times, he now desired to end the night buried in a soft, beautiful woman: the woman in front of him. The only woman he would ever want again.

He watched, spellbound, as Sookie walked over to the small table and picked up the golden cup. Moving slowly towards him, her dress seeming to float around her lovely bare feet in the cool night air, barely warmed by the fire, she extended her hand, offering it to him.

He knew that he should ask questions, important questions. How had she gotten away from Halbjorn? _Why_ had she gotten away from Halbjorn? What was she doing here? But the questions seemed to float out of his head almost at the moment they were thought. Instead, he grabbed the wrist of the arm she held out, pulling her closer to him.

"I would rather have you." He said, his own voice barely recognizable, so deep and darkly tinged with lust. She laughed again and, though this thought too flew from him almost as soon as it took form, he dimly noticed that her voice still echoed, even here in the small room, as though it were coming to him from over a great distance.

"The night is still young, there will be plenty of time for you to taste me. But now, drink this." He should have asked what was in the cup, should have smelled the blood before throwing it back, but he did not. If she wanted him to drink, he would drink. If she wanted him to beg her, he would beg. If she wanted anything of him, he would give it, _anything_ to get her to untie the last little piece of lace that held her gown to her body and allow him to pull it off of her.

She watched as he drank the blood in the cup and the black of his pupils ate the ice of his irises. She watched as the intoxicating Fairy blood coursed through his system, taking with it the last of his sanity and his will to resist. Taking three steps back from him, until her feet felt the edge of the fur before the fire, she slowly brought her hand up to the tie that held her gown, and pulled. With that final tug the lace gave way. Giving her body a single , graceful shake the fabric fell from her, leaving her naked in front of him, her hair a golden, glowing halo lit by the flames burning brightly behind her.

Eric watched, his mind reduced to nothing more than instinct and need, as she, now perfectly naked in front of him, lifted both of her arms in invitation. His last coherent thought was that he could not believe that this was happening, and then he thought no more. Beaten down by his endless, unquenchable desire for her and intoxicated, beyond the possibility of sense, from the blood in the cup he moved to her with inhuman speed, taking her bare shoulders in his hands and pressing the length of her naked form against his clothed one for just a moment before pushing her down onto the furs that littered the floor.

She only smiled up at him, knowing he was lost to reason and sense, and allowed him to drink in her nude form. Smiling, without a shred of her normal shyness or modesty, she moved her hands from where they covered her breasts and bent her legs at the knee, parting them so that he might see all of her.

Moving faster than a human could see, he tore the clothes from his body and dropped down to the floor, crushing every inch of his nakedness against hers, forcing his hips into the juncture between her thighs and grabbing her beautiful gold tresses, trapping her head in his hands.

If he had been sober, if he had been sane, he would have realized in that instant that she did not smell right and that her body, though as beautiful and perfect as he remembered, was not the right temperature. But he saw nothing, sensed nothing but that his Sookie was finally beneath him again, yielding to him, giving herself to him when he had thought her completely lost to him. He would not be honorable this time. He could not be, with the blood coursing through him, stoking his need until it was an unbearable inferno that nearly scorched him. He would not spare her modesty this time, nor would he pamper his own vanity with thoughts of waiting or prolonging their joining until it could be shouted out in the open.

He would have her completely and utterly. He would love her and defile her, please her and ruin her, take every part of her for himself and leave her as broken, confused and anguished as he had been these many weeks; tortured by their love for each other, burning with desire until they were consumed by their hatred and there was nothing left of the beings they had been before.

Pulling the golden strands trapped in his hands violently, he bared her neck. They shared one last silent look, her eyes growing wild with their own mounting desire as his fangs slammed down, and then he struck, sinking them into her neck and plunging his aching cock into the softness of her sex without a moment's more notice. He felt her legs come up around his waist, locking tightly behind his back, her hands gripping his shoulders, as she screamed her pleasure at his brutal entry. Sucking her sweet blood into him but barely tasting it, he began to pump into her savagely. The force of his thrusts beat her hips hard into the blankets beneath them each time.

"Oh God, YESSSSSSS! More!" She cried out, her screams ringing out through the room, sounding almost crazed. He didn't understand. How could she be enjoying this? She was a virgin, was he not hurting her? He did not want to hurt her! No matter what had happened between them, no matter how coarsely, how shamefully he had behaved on the ship, he loved her. He wanted to bring her pleasure, not pain, but he couldn't stop! What was happening? He tried to clear his thoughts, but they were so muddled, so without focus, that he could not. Instead, allowing her moans of pleasure to reassure him, he gave himself over to the punishing rhythm he had set and allowed himself to do nothing more than feel. It wasn't until the moment that he looked down and saw the fangs extending from her mouth that he realized something was horribly wrong.

He watched with horror as she smiled at him, razor sharp teeth peeking out from her full, beautiful lips, and a demented, predatory look painting her face. Only when she reared up, using a strength she could not possibly be capable of, and sank those fangs into his flesh did his mind begin to clear.

No matter how hard he tried though, his body had taken over. He heard her cry out her pleasure as she came, pulling his blood deep into her, and the feeling of her bite and the tremors of her tight, velvet hot channel squeezing him brought his own moment on without warning.

He screamed out his pleasure, pumping into her erratically, spilling himself inside of her over and over again, calling Sookie's name and bellowing to the gods. Only when it was over and he could open his eyes once more, did he truly see the woman below him, the woman his mind already knew was not the right one, even though his body had not yet caught up.

He heard her cold, pitiless chuckle even before his eyes regained focus. He heard the snicking sound that signaled her fangs retracting and looking down, he saw Freyda beneath him, smiling wickedly as a drop of his blood trickled down her chin and fell, coming to rest in the hollow of her collarbones.

"You were every bit as magnificent as I remember, my mighty warrior." Her tone was mocking, a cat playing with an already caught mouse. His revulsion was overwhelming as he looked down at her, incredulous, his body still joined to hers. "Surely you don't regret what we've done?" She purred, one elegant finger tracing down the hard planes of his chest, down the rippling muscles of his stomach, coming to rest at the place where his cock was still buried inside of her. "Your innocent little Queen, your darling little servant girl, could never have fucked you like that."

He felt himself beginning to shake with rage. She had tricked him. She had used magic and Fairy blood to muddle him and she had taken what she wanted, having somehow discovered a secret that could destroy both him and Sookie. He heard her laughter again, this time filled with jealousy and bitterness.

"I see you are still not convinced that you belong to me. No matter. Have your precious little Fairy if that is what you wish. See if her virtuous innocence can keep you entertained past the first fuck. I will be waiting, and you _will _come. " With that, she used her superior age and strength to move him off of her, zipping from the room faster than his eyes could track her. Leaving him still somewhat intoxicated and entirely enraged, his chest ripping from the pain of having betrayed his love and seething with rage at bitch who had caused it.

Jumping to his feet still naked, he took that rage out on the only thing he could. He lifted the tiny table and dashed it, again and again, against the stone walls, screaming his indignation, his anger and his violation to the empty room.

When it was done, he stood there panting, though he did not need to, attempting to regain control of his emotions and banish the last of the Fairy induced intoxication from his brain. What should he do now? Freyda knew things that could easily destroy him or be used to hurt Sookie. How had she learned the truth? He had clearly underestimated her. He had always known that she was petty, selfish and spiteful, but he never imagined that she possessed the level of power he had just seen. Of what else was she capable?

With a sudden jolt of fear, he wondered where she was and what she was doing. Without realizing it, he threw on his clothes and made his way towards Halbjorn's apartments. He needed to find Sookie, needed to make sure that she was safe. He did not think it likely that Freyda would hurt her after her parting words, but he had already made the mistake of believing he knew everything of which she was capable, and he would not make it again: not when Sookie's life could be at stake. Coming to the doors of his King's chamber he saw the guards standing at attention.

"Is the Queen within?" He asked. As much as the thought of what was going on inside his King's rooms tortured him, he felt sure that Sookie would be safe here. Freyda would not risk starting open war with Halbjorn just to get him back in her bed. To Eric's great surprise, the guard shook his head.

"No, my lord, the Queen returned to her chambers several hours ago." Suddenly Eric heard a breathy cry of ecstasy coming from behind the closed door. He knew instantly that it was not Sookie's voice that floated out to him now. He was fairly certain, though he had never paid that much attention to her, that it was Halbjorn's pet Brynja. Keeping his face neutral of his astonishment, Eric nodded to the guard and turned away.

He had hoped that she was with Halbjorn: so that she would be safe, so that he would have more time before he explained to her the danger they were both clearly in, so that he would not have to face her still stinking of Freyda and reeling from the deep violation he felt. No one had used him so since his accursed maker. No one had belittled him, humiliated him or degraded him in such a way in the hundred and twenty odd years since he'd left Appius, and he vowed now that he would have his revenge on Freyda. She was right in one thing at least. He would go back to her, but only to see the look of astonishment that would paint her face as he reached into her chest, tore out her heart and showed it her, just before ripping her head off.

The thought brought him a satisfaction that actually caused him to harden slightly, but it soon left him when he remembered again, for the thousandth time in the last two weeks, his behavior on the boat. He had never, in his life, either as a Human or a Vampire, forced himself on a woman, not by force of strength and not by the use of his glamour. He thought it a deplorable act when he was Human, one that stripped a man of his honor and proved him unworthy of respect. After his making he came to understand firsthand the deep emotional trauma that it caused. It was a pain that lasted far beyond the physical wounds. A pain that had stayed with him, darkened him and twisted him to the point that he had almost succumbed and become the monster that Appius had hoped to create.

Yet he had come so close to hurting her in that way. It galled him to understand that he was frightened by the strength of the passion that she provoked in him, the force of the emotional storm that she had created. Since the moment he had opened his eyes in their cottage on the beach, he had been almost completely out of control, careening from one strong, unfamiliar feeling to the next. Without trying, she had stripped him of his armor, of his ability to tamp down and control the emotions within him, emotions that were so much stronger and wilder as a Vampire than they had been when he was Human.

When those emotions had been delightful and soft, seemingly Human, he had given passing worry to becoming weak, but had been so astonished by their unfamiliar sweetness that he had accepted them without much qualm. To know that side of himself again, to feel those lovely things with the added depth of a Vampire, had been a wonderful, unique and intoxicating experience. But now he saw that he had also lost control of their darker brethren. And with all the discipline of a new made Vampire, he had allowed his hurt to provide a justification for his inability to constrain them as well.

In the grief that followed the revelation of her lies, he had given himself over almost completely to the strength of those dark emotions and, though he had felt shame over attempting to hurt her on the boat, it had been the shame he would have felt at attempting to hurt any women thus. Now, after the events of this night, as he admitted fully that she was in his system, whether as a poison or a balm, and after he had been reminded of just how heinous a violation it was, he felt the pain of what he had almost done with a breathtaking new acuity.

He had spent the last weeks selfishly wallowing and attempting, whenever he thought of her softly or longingly, to banish the now hated feelings by reminding himself of her betrayal, by asking himself how _he_ could ever trust _her _again. But now, as he made his way to her, as he hoped desperately that she would listen and understand the danger she was in, that she would know he came to her out of fear for her life and out of love of her life, he worried that what_ he_ had done, _all_ of the things he had done, from burning her sanctuary to almost violating her, from ignoring her to pretending to disdain her, would result in her never trusting him again. And almost as terrible, he feared that she might never truly love him again either.

Both thoughts almost brought him again to the brink of becoming unhinged. She had to believe him. She had to understand the danger and be cautious with her precious life, and she had to love him. He had tried to make himself hate her. He had attempted to will the love for her from his body with a storm of hate and rage and resentment, but he knew now that he could not. Yet what if he had made her believe that he no longer loved her, had never loved her? What if his pretense had convinced her that he was not worth caring for? What if he'd driven her away?

Coming upon the hall that led to her door, he realized that he had no choice but to admit it all to her and beg for her forgiveness. It seemed now that they both had much to atone for. If she would forgive him his anger and his shameful displays of rage, then he would forgive her deceptions without a moment's hesitation.

Eric caught sight of the guards at her door and realized suddenly that he had no good reason to be demanding entrance to the Queen's chamber an hour and half before dawn.

Slipping back down the hall, he came to one of the larger casements and climbed out of it, taking to the air and flying to the window of her receiving chamber. The room was dark and empty, as on a cursory look was her audience chamber. Assuring himself that both of those rooms were safe, he made his way to her sleeping chamber door and opened it quietly.

Feeling himself release an unnecessary breath he had not even known he was holding, he saw her there upon her large, velvet hung bed, already asleep. He told himself that, seeing that she was clearly safe, he should return to his own chamber to await the dawn in safety, but he simply could not. The night's events played themselves out in his brain once more: the marriage, the dance, the feeling of holding her so close, the illusion of having her as his once more, then the horrible truth of the trick that had been played on him, the fear for her safety, the realization, not minutes ago, of his love for her and the bewilderment of knowing she was here instead of with her husband. He could not leave.

Walking over to the pallet that lay close to the large bed, Eric roused Sookie's nurse. The old woman would have been startled, but from the moment she opened her eyes, he took her mind. Petting her course red and gray hair, he made shushing noises and pushed her gently back down onto the bed.

"Sleep." He whispered. "No matter what you hear, you will remain sleeping. You will dream of the happy moments in your life and not remember that I was ever in your mistress's chamber this night." The old woman gave a barely perceptible nod and instantly fell back to her dreams.

Assured that Sookie's nurse would not be an interference this time, he rose once again and made his way, more slowly this time, to the tiny figure sleeping in the large bed. He did not know what it was that he was going to say to her, or how he had meant to rouse her, but he found himself leaning down, simply watching her for endless minutes.

The moonlight and the pale linens of the bed seemed to give her lightly tanned skin and her golden hair an eerie, otherworldly glow. Her lips, always pink and petal soft, were slightly parted in her sleep and her beautiful form was barely covered by the velvet blankets that had slipped low and the white shift she wore, which was nearly translucent.

Unable to stop himself, he leant over and placed a gentle kiss on her parted lips. As if he had lifted an enchantment, he heard her breathing pick up and watched her eyes flutter open. The smile that painted her lips was one of half consciousness. He knew without being told that she was not completely awake and that she did not fully realize that he was here.

"Eric…"She whispered his name in that breathy tone that made him ache in every part of his body, and he felt a moment of sadness that she would probably not greet him so sweetly when she realized that he was truly there. Yet, with so little time before dawn, he knew he had no more moments to waste.

"Sookie, you must wake, I must speak with you." He saw the look of confusion cross her face as all her senses returned to her from the fog of sleep. He waited for her indignation to follow, but oddly it did not. Had she been as affected as he had by the emotions that had seemed to overwhelm him in the hall?

"What are you doing here?" She questioned softly, her eyes tearing away from his long enough to look at Amena.

"You need not worry, she will sleep through the night. Even if the castle where to come down around our ears she would not wake." This, more than anything, seemed to raise her ire and she looked at him with sudden suspicion.

"You've glamoured her?" He nodded in response. "Why?" Without waiting to be invited Eric sat down on the bed. Though it pained him, he could not say he was surprised when she pushed herself into a sitting position and scooted as far into the headboard as she could, pulling the bed linens up to her chin at the same time. Sighing, he looked her straight in the eye so that, even in the dim light provided by the moon she would see and hopefully understand that he was being honest with her.

"Something has happened tonight. I fear that you are in danger." He heard the small sound of disbelief come from her and it struck him directly in the chest.

"And why would that concern you?" She said, the antagonism that he had grown used to in the last week once again rising to meet him. Without truly meaning to, he found himself no longer sitting, but kneeling in front of her, his arm extended, his hand cupping her face, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"Please do not do this. I know that we have both done things we should not have. I know that it is easier for us both to pretend that we hate each other than to deal with all the deceptions and omissions that have brought us to this point. But I also know that you still feel it…you feel it as I do… I saw it tonight. Please, if only for a few moments more this night, do not be Saoirse. Be Sookie once more. Be my Sookie." Sookie felt the tears welling up and beginning to fall. She wanted to fall into his arms, to tell him that she was sorry for having lied to him, that she understood why he had acted the way he did, that she forgave him everything, but she could not.

He had behaved in a way that she could never dream of understanding no matter how many times she went over it all in her head, or tried to rationalize it. He had taken the lies that she had given him and repaid each one of them with anger, rage and violence. Even if she could never stop loving him, which she now began to suspect would be her fate for the remainder of her life, how could she ever forgive him, or trust in him again? Pulling her head forcefully out of his grasp, she quickly rose from the bed, putting distance between them.

"I would have been your Sookie until the end of my life, but you would not let me. Was it not you who told me never to speak of that time on the beach again? Was it not you who made it clear that you did not wish to hear what I had to say or why I did what I did? Was it not you who showed, beyond a shadow of doubt, that you no longer love me, or even care for me? Why should I trust you now? Why should I be _your Sookie_ ever again? I know what I did was wrong, but what choice did I have? We were enemies, yet I saved you! I didn't have to do it, but I did! And when you told me, without a moment's hesitation or an ounce of remorse, that you had come to kill my Grandfather… MY GRANDFATHER…the only being on this planet, save the one sleeping there, who has ever loved me, what should I have done? Should I have admitted to you that I was his granddaughter, that you had just happened to stumble upon the perfect hostage?" He watched in stunned silence as she screamed at him, her hands gesticulating wildly and tears streaming down her face. Yet her anger did not cow him. Instead he felt the rising of his own to meet it.

"Perhaps not in the beginning. But surely, as the nights passed, you knew that I would never hurt you? Surely you knew that my love for you meant more to me than anything else?" He began to interrupt her, but she only laughed at him in return.

"Oh yes, you've proved how very much you love me. You've proved how you would never hurt me! Do you call burning our cottage loving me? Do you call almost raping me never hurting me? My grandfather was right. Vampires can never be trusted, you're nothing more than soulless, vicious, murdering _monsters_." Her words were at least partially true, but the truth of them only made his anger burn hotter.

"You lied to me! You made me believe you were one thing when you were another. You did not even have the courage to tell me, that last night, who you really were or what was to become of you! You have made me feel things I never thought were possible, you have awakened in me a side that I thought long dead, and then I find that it was all a lie. I could not handle it. I _cannot_ handle it!" He felt himself very close to losing control once more and, again, without truly meaning to, he moved to her. He saw her eyes grow wide with fear as he closed the distance between them and her mouth open, ready at any moment to scream for help and alert the guards outside that he was there, but he could not stop himself.

Before the sound could escape her mouth, he brought his hands to her shoulders. In one swift movement he brought her whole body up against his own and crashed his mouth down on hers. He felt her begin to struggle in his arms, but it only lasted a brief moment before the air in the room seemed to change, and she suddenly went still.

Sookie's mind flashed for one terrified instant to that frightening night on the boat. This moment could have been eerily similar save for one difference. On the boat she felt his anger and his need for violence as if they were palpable things. She had nearly been overwhelmed by his rage then and his need to purge it by hurting her. But now, as his mouth moved so insistently over hers, she realized that those potent dark emotions were completely absent from him. What she felt coming from him instead was very different: concern, frustration, desire and above them all, calling to her with the power of its intensity, was love. It sung to her like the songs of sirens, begging her, commanding her to lay aside the bitterness that had been between them and instead to return his ardor with her whole heart. It left her helpless to do anything but comply.

She began to kiss him back, her arms wending their way around his neck and into his hair. He let her shoulders go and wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, pulling her completely against him and using his larger form to shelter her smaller one this time instead of intimidating it. With one final pass of his lips over hers, they broke so that she could breath and, as she stared at him dumbfounded, pulling in gasps of air, he brought his hands to her face and cradled it completely within them.

"You brought something within me back to life. Something that I don't understand and can barely control. I know I hurt you, and I am shamed by what I did, what I tried to do. I am frightened because I do not know that it will not happen again and I am humiliated that, as strong as I am, as vicious and as feared as I have made myself, you defeat me. With one angry look, you defeat me. With one sweet kiss, you enslave me and with one more rejection, you could kill me. I love you Sookie. I do not know if the feeling I have for you, so filled with both light and darkness, is the same feeling you have for me, but it is the only word that I can use to describe it. My whole being aches for you and, when you were with me, I was happier than I ever thought it possible for me to be. But when I found out that you were not who you said you were, when I thought it meant that you had never felt the way you said you felt, when I realized that you were never to be mine as I had dreamed and longed for, I was lost to a sea of darkness so deep and so black that I thought my very being would fall away from me." He paused, trying to form the words that would express the well of emotion, both good and bad, that he had been drowning in all these weeks and, as he did so, he brought his forehead to rest on hers and felt with overwhelming joy the caress of her hands up and down his back.

"I no longer care what came before. I no longer care if you are Sookie or Saoirse, or that you lied about who you are, or that I omitted the truth of my station. I care only that, in a way more simple and more elemental than station or title or duty, I am yours and I beg of you to be mine once more. I love you Sookie. Please, I beg you, love me as well. I did not lie to you on the beach. I am that man that you loved and I can be him again, always, if only you will shine the light of your love on me once more. Please?" He knew that he was begging. He knew that he was doing what he swore he would never again lower himself to do before any creature, now that he was free from his maker. But he did not care. He would get on his knees if it meant she would come back to him.

Sookie could not breathe. She wondered, half dazed, if she could still be dreaming. Until this very night, until their dance in the hall, she had let her doubts sway her. She had let her anger rule her, fighting back against his seeming coldness with a vicious tongue that she had been shocked to discover she possessed. And yet she knew as he entreated her with his beautiful blue eyes, those eyes that she loved so well, that she had been both right and wrong in him. He had felt the same tender emotions and blissful passion that she had felt on their beach. But he had also felt the raging violence and anger that he had displayed on the boat when he had nearly raped her. He was not a Human, he was not a Fairy. She would never be able to completely understand the strength or the volatility of his emotions and she might never be assured of safety by his side. The question now became whether she could still love him, knowing that he would always war with this darker side? Could she let him back in after everything that he had done? Could she risk the chance of the disaster they might face if this thing between them was given free reign and then discovered?

They were heavy questions, questions she knew that she should not sweep over in the heat of the moment, and yet there was one question that was more important than them all: Could she spend the rest of her natural life loving him and not be with him? Could she watch him walk away from her tonight and perhaps someday belong to another?

"I cannot love you once more Eric." She saw the pain cross his face as she said it, saw him ready to interrupt her and beg again, when she brought one of her arms from behind his back and pressed a finger to his mouth. "I cannot love you _once more_ because I never stopped loving you the first time! You terrify me, you bewilder me, but you also fill me! Your love, your hate, your anger, your joy: they reach down to the empty places, the places in me that have been sleeping all my life, and you rouse them, fill them… you make me whole. I do not know what we will do, how we will live as we must live here, but I swear to you that I never lied to you about my love, nor will I ever. You have it, you have had it almost since the moment I pulled you off the beach, and you will have it long after you wish you did not." With that, she removed her hand from his lips and replaced them with her own.

The moment was like no other in his almost three centuries of life. He had never experienced the joy, the sheer exaltation that coursed through him now. They had seen each other as they truly were, they had doubted that everything they had felt before was real, they had lashed out at each other, hurt each other almost beyond forgiving, and yet they had survived. Their love had survived. She was his once more and he would never let her go, never allow her to be another's ever again. He knew he still needed to tell her all that had happened this night, but suddenly he became aware that he was becoming sleepy. The sun was beginning to rise and if he did not leave soon he would be in danger. Breaking apart from the sweet lips he wished he could kiss forever, he looked down on her with urgent eyes.

"Sookie, listen to me. It's nearly dawn and I must go to ground, but before I leave I need you to understand something. Queen Freyda is dangerous. Somehow she has found out about us and she knows who you are and what I feel for you. You must not, under any circumstance, find yourself alone with her, do you understand me?" He saw Sookie nod her head, saw her open her mouth to question him, but this time it was he who placed his finger over her mouth. "There is still much I must tell you about what has happened tonight, but there is no time right now. I will come to you tomorrow night, after the Kings and Queens have taken their leave, and tell you everything, but now you must promise me that you will be careful and do not let her corner you. Swear it." He commanded her. Using the hand that was still in his hair to force his head down to hers, she kissed him one more time and nodded her head solemnly.

"I promise." She said. He smiled down on her, so filled with happiness at her love, but frustrated that he had to leave her. He let his lips brush hers again before he opened the door to her bedroom and climbed out the window of her receiving chamber. She followed close behind him, claiming one last kiss before he launched himself out into the quickly lightening sky.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Gotta shout out my beta Sheknitsnicely! You're the best! I love you, love you, love you! And thank everyone who's reviewed, favorited, and put this story on Alert! I'm so overwhelmed, I still can't believe anyone would want to read something I wrote, so thank you…it just really makes me so grateful!_

_Sookie and Eric talk a little loud this chapter, but I figured after everything they've been through they really deserved a break before I throw some more trouble their way. So everything gets made up with enough time for a lemon before dawn._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…_

The midday sun was just peeking its way over the top most tower of the castle when Brynja took Saoirse's hand and led her away from the rest of the ladies. Saoirse had insisted that they go out and enjoy the high summer sun, and so they had been lounging for the better part of the morning, enjoying a picnic, playing with the bunnies in their hutches and gossiping about the previous night's revelries.

Saoirse had listened to it all with a distant disinterestedness, too wrapped up in her own beautiful memories of the night before to care much who had paired with who, who had traded up to who, or who had been left for someone else. It all seemed a million miles away and utterly inconsequential. She found herself unable to concentrate on anything other than willing the hours away until she could see Eric again.

Sitting them down well away from the others, Brynja almost laughed. She could not be completely sure what had come over her friend since last night, but she would have bet her considerable fortune that it had something to do with the Lord Commander. Brynja had seen them dancing and, though at first she had been utterly shocked to see them anywhere near each other when swords or stakes weren't handy, she had soon realized that the hostility between them was nothing more than a smoke screen. There was something infinitely strong and utterly palpable between the two of them, it just wasn't hatred. Snapping her fingers in front of Saoirse's face, hoping to rouse her from the dreamy spell that had her smiling like a loon at thin air, Brynja attempted to get her attention.

"Saoirse…what on earth has come over you?" Brynja asked, choosing to feign ignorance until her friend decided to admit to the truth. Saoirse seemed startled momentarily and then looked down at her feet as a deep blush spread across her face and neck.

"Nothing, I'm sorry, I just didn't get much sleep last night and Amena was pulling the covers off of me not many hours past dawn this morning. I swear someone forgot to tell her that we live with Vampires now." Brynja could only laugh. Amena was, in fact, patently stuck in her ways and driving everyone crazy, although she felt that the other Ladies in waiting could do with some of Saoirse's stolid nurse's discipline.

She looked over now and had to suppress another round of giggles as she saw Amena devising a plan to torture Saoirse's ladies all afternoon long with some odious sewing project: shirts for the poor, hangings for the Great hall, booties for the garden bunnies…the more lowly or ridiculous the better. Amena made no secret of the fact that she disapproved of their spoiled lives as much as she disapproved of their lazy ways and their haughty attitudes. She disapproved of everything about them and she did so loudly. She was determined to make true ladies of them, even it killed them all. Turning from the determined look of Saoirse's nurse and the equally miserable expressions of the other ladies, Brynja resettled her gaze on her friend.

"His majesty bid me tell you that he will come to you a few minutes after sunset tonight." She said in a lower tone, careful to make sure the others did not hear. Saoirse could feel her eyebrows rising.

"Why?" She was becoming used to sitting the night with Halbjorn in the throne room when there was business to conduct, or spending time in his apartments when he relaxed with his companions, but other than the first night when he had come to her in secret to offer her his bargain, he had never visited her chamber.

"The lesser Kings and Queens will take their leave tonight. They will present themselves to Halbjorn and to you individually before they depart and you must have a visible mark of his ownership. He won't allow them close enough to get a proper smell of you, but if you are not marked, it will call into question the validity of Halbjorn's claim." Saoirse had promised herself from the beginning that she would not undermine the trust of her friend by ever dipping in to her mind without permission, and so as Brynja said it all now, without even a hint of emotion, Saoirse was left to wonder yet again if her friend was truly comfortable with everything that was happening or if it was merely a good act.

"And this does not bother you?" She asked instead, determined to try and find out if Brynja was really as nonchalant about it all as she made out.

"Saoirse, you are sweet to me, sweeter than almost anyone has ever been, and it is heartwarming of you to care whether or not this might bother me. But I promise you I am not injured or upset by this. I may not be that much older than you, but I have lived among Vampires a great deal longer and I understand all too well how much of their lives are a show. Besides, while your marriage may not be real in the traditional sense, the mark is very important. You are part Fae and a Princess of your kind. If others do not see Halbjorn's mark and believe that you are truly his, then you would be in danger. So no, I am not upset at all. I see it as a means of protecting you and that is important to me." Saoirse let go of a breath that she had not realized she was holding.

"I am glad to hear it." She said, feeling relief flood through her. She hadn't realized until that moment just how much Brynja had come to mean to her, or how sad she would feel if resentment or jealousy ever came between them. "Brynja,"she began changing the subject cautiously, to one that had been practically clawing at her since last night, "who is Freyda?" Brynja tried to control the smile that wanted to break across her face. She could feel the barely suppressed jealousy radiating off her friend when she spoke that awful woman's name, and she was surer than ever that her suspicions about Saoirse and the Lord Commander were correct.

"She is the Queen of Ostergotland- the Eastlands - and she owes fealty to Halbjorn." She said simply, waiting just a moment to see if her friend would goad her for more. When Saoirse looked at her expectantly but said nothing else, Brynja could not help herself and decided to give her friend exactly what she was looking for, although she would not bring herself to simply come out and ask. "I don't know much about her besides the obvious." Brynja whispered conspiratorially. "She is beautiful, she is old, over four hundred I believe. She rules her lands quite ruthlessly and provided many warriors for Halbjorn's army. Other than that there isn't much I can say I know to be fact, but there are many, many whispers that surround her. There are those who believe she is a witch or a sorceress, that she has great powers. They say that it is dangerous to upset her. The men all whisper about her sexual talents and the fact that she is said to enhance the experience through her magic. From what I have seen, I would say that she is haughty, entirely in love with herself, deeply ruthless, and not someone I would want to cross." Saoirse seemed to take it all in for a long moment before saying what she knew would probably betray her.

"And she seems to have her sights set on Eric." Brynja smiled even brighter. There was no way that Saoirse would be concerned for him, as her tone clearly betrayed that she was, if she did not have feelings for him. It made Brynja both happy that her friend had found someone to care so deeply about, and sad that it should be under such circumstances.

"It would seem so, but if what I saw last night was any indication, she has set herself to a hopeless task. My Lord Eric seems to have his heart set on someone else entirely. Someone far sweeter, far kinder, and far better than that awful cow." Brynja could only laugh when she saw Saoirse's eyes widen like a deer before the hunter's arrow. Putting her hand over her friend's and looking deep into her eyes, she set about to quell Saoirse's fear.

"I promise I will say nothing. You have my word on it and may read my thoughts if you are fearful I am dishonest. I know what it is to love someone that you should not, and I promise that I will help you in any way I can. We have not known each other long, Saoirse, but I love you dearly." Saoirse felt tears prick her eyes as she stared at the redhead beside her.

"Thank you." She said simply, embracing her friend tightly.

.oO~*~Oo.

The Great Hall was once again filled to its limit as Saoirse took her place beside Halbjorn on her white marble throne. She let the skirts of her gown, as white and pure as the stone underneath her, spread out around her legs and prepared for another long night. Beside her, Halbjorn sat tall and menacing, Brynja at his feet, attempting to look blank as she always did when before the court. Behind them stood Haldis, Eric and Wallace, their faces expressionless in a way only Vampires seemed able to achieve, except for the one moment when Eric had caught sight of the marks on her neck. For a single instant she had seen the very fires of hell burning in his eyes, before he retreated into the cold blankness that had become so familiar to her in the past weeks. She wanted to explain to him, but then assumed that he would know why they were there. Instead she determined to let him have his moment of sullen anger and to assure him later that they were nothing more than marks.

The doors to the Great Hall were opened and, for the next several hours, Halbjorn's lesser monarchs came one by one to take their leave, to re-swear their fealty to him and by extension to her, and to have a moment of the High King's undivided attention.

It could not have been many hours past midnight when the final monarch made her way up: Freyda. Saoirse watched as she slunk up to the dais, her hips swaying provocatively, her gown of thick black velvet slashed at the sleeves and up the sides of her skirts, her long white blond hair braided and twisted up elaborately to bare her graceful, alabaster neck. When she reached the steps to the dais she bowed low but kept her head up, her eyes smiling coyly, not at Halbjorn, but beyond him to Eric. Saoirse felt her jealousy flare. Using every ounce of her willpower, she made herself keep as still as the Vampires around her, though she wanted desperately to turn and see if Eric was staring back at the highly seductive woman bowing before them with his usual cold disinterest, or if he was returning her heated gaze.

"Your Majesty, may I offer my deepest congratulations and most sincere wishes for your happiness." Freyda's silken voice rung out so that the whole hall could hear her. Halbjorn smiled, though not warmly.

"I thank you my Lady. I trust that you enjoyed yourself?" Halbjorn questioned, observing formality. Freyda smiled a smile that seemed more malevolent than beautiful, and Saoirse felt herself gripping the Fairy heads that made up the ends of her arm rests as the Queen of the Eastlands settled that terrifying smile directly on her.

"Indeed your Majesty I had a most magnificent time. I owe it entirely to the strenuous efforts of my Lord Eric, who is always so ardent in his desire to make sure I find… satisfaction when at court." Had she been able to process anything after those words were spoken, Saoirse would have seen plainly out of the corner of her eye the restraining hands that both Wallace and, shockingly, Haldis placed on Eric's shoulders, using their combined strength to keep him from breaking their hold and doing bodily harm to the seemingly smaller and more fragile woman at the foot of the dais. As it was, she saw nothing, nor did she hear the warning growl that escaped his lips as he fought hard to keep his fangs from slamming down.

All she heard where Freyda's words repeating over and over in her head, their purposefully poorly veiled meaning pummeling her again and again. When Saoirse found herself capable of concentrating on anything else again, she realized that Freyda had already left and that Eric had disappeared at some point as well. A part of her, a part that was throbbing with pain, wondered if he had not gone to more properly wish her farewell.

That thought was so revolting that she found herself rising to her feet and stalking out of the vast room without another word, as the entire court looked on in bewilderment. She had been proud of herself for not running from the hall in tears, but when she had finally cleared the large double doors she gave in to her need and took off at a run, the wetness streaming down her face, her sobs barely held in. The guards at her chamber doors, upon seeing their crying Queen, opened them wide to let her in. She found her rooms empty except for Amena, who rushed over to her and attempted to try to hold and console her.

"No. No, I want to be alone right now." She said through her tears. "Go to Brynja's quarters and sleep there tonight." Amena looked at her long and hard, fear and worry etched on her aging face, but finally nodded, understanding that something awful must have happened, but that Saoirse would not send her from the room if there was any real danger. Once Saoirse heard the doors to her outer chamber close she ran once more through to her sleeping room and flung herself on the bed.

She wanted to cry, she wanted to rend the pillows and rip the curtains from their hangings, she wanted to scream and hit and kick until the room and all its contents were nothing more than kindling for the little fire that burned in the grate. But she never got the chance. She had barely let her head hit the pillow when she saw him, suspended outside of the small window.

"Sookie open the window in the other room and let me in." He said, his voice commanding, but level and calm, betraying none of the emotion that was raging within him. In truth his blood was boiling with barely contained fury. If he could have, he would have killed Freyda right there in the hall in front of everyone. He would have told Sookie everything, would have taken any anger and any hurt that she might have had as just punishment for his stupidity, even though he hoped she would understand what had happened and the true danger that it unearthed. But instead Freyda had revealed the truth, or at least part of it, first, knowing how it would sound, attempting to destroy the only thing that he cared about in her delusional effort to get him to give in to her.

"Do you think me a complete fool? You must, if you think I would EVER let you near me again! Get away from me! Leave me alone!" She hissed at him, baring her all too human teeth and letting her fingers curl into claws in the bed sheets. He felt himself hissing in return, felt his fangs slamming down. He was not leaving until this was settled. He would not go back to the way it had been between them these weeks. He would not allow her to push him back to the brink of insanity by denying him her presence and her love.

"Open the casement window Sookie, or I will simply start removing the wall, piece by piece." He hissed. She remembered, in that instant, watching him destroy her little cottage. She knew from his face that he was remembering it too. For just a moment she thought she saw something that looked like remorse light his features, but it was soon swallowed by a look of heated determination. He wanted her to remember what he'd done so she'd know that he would do it again without a moment's hesitation.

Defeated, she stalked through to the other room, opening the window and stepping back as he barreled through it. When he was finally inside though, everything stopped. They stared at each other dumbfounded for long minutes, neither of them knowing what to say or where to begin. Finally he saw Sookie jut out her chin and stare him down defiantly.

"Say what you came to say and then get out." She spat at him, eyes blazing.

"I love you. I did not sleep with her willingly." He implored, wanting her to know that above all else.

"I see. She forced you then?" She scoffed disbelievingly. Eric could feel his hands fisting in anger again, could feel his fangs, which he had put away when she'd opened the window, itching to come down once more. His shame at having been so easily maneuvered by Freyda and his anger at having his will taken from him, came barreling back. And now they warred with the side of him that knew he must tell Sookie everything truthfully, or he would most certainly lose her. He hated having to admit what had happened, to explain himself, but he knew that he must.

"Sookie please listen to me, and HEAR what I am saying. I did not lay with her willingly, and I came to you as soon as it was done. I had to. I had to make sure you were safe, had to let you know the danger you were in. Sookie, I swore to you last night that I would tell you everything and I would have told you this." He heard her incredulous laugh and saw the anger flare in her eyes, her barely concealed pain right behind it.

"I don't understand. If I was in so much danger from Freyda, why did you bother to come to me at all? Why not simply entertain her until dawn…to keep me safe, of course?" Part of Sookie realized that she was being cruel to him, that something had happened last night, but all she could think about was the way Freyda had looked at her in the Hall. The woman had been laughing at her. It made her feel like the most ridiculous fool, spending her days pining away for him while he met his needs with a real woman, then coming to her afterwards to bask in her silly virginal adoration.

"You have not asked me how it happened, how she got me into her bed." He said, ignoring her outburst, his voice quiet, deadly, his rational mind beginning to recede under the fear that she would banish him from her side once more.

"I had assumed she did it in the usual way, by spreading her legs and bidding you enter." She didn't want to speak about this anymore. She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want to know how Freyda had gotten him to sleep with her. All she could see were sickening images of him lost in the throes of pleasure as Freyda moaned beneath him.

In that moment, watching her reject him through her tears, feeling her hate for him returning with the force of a gale wind, his control snapped. Closing the distance between them in three fast strides, he took her arms in his hands and pulled her to him roughly. He saw the look of complete terror that suddenly washed over her. He knew she thought he would hurt her now. He knew that, if he did not choose his next words carefully, if she continued to taunt him, he might. It was all to close to the surface, the abyss of his emotions, he had to make her see… he had to make her understand before everything was destroyed between them, not merely by Freyda's malicious words or malevolent deeds, but by his own hand as well.

"Do you think for an instant that I would choose that vicious, evil whore over you? Do you think that I would glory in the love of an angel and then throw it away to wallow in the mud with her? I told you last night that I felt you in the Hall. I felt that you still loved me. Do you think that I would give up the chance of us, just to put my cock between her used up thighs? She tricked me. She made me believe she was you." He saw the skepticism clearly written on her face. He saw her ready to interrupt with another spear tongued barb, but he surged on, not giving her the chance. "There has always been talk, but I never gave it any credence until last night. She is a sorceress Sookie. She used magic and Fairy blood to enchant and intoxicate me and she pretended to be you.

I saw you running down a hall. You called to me. I knew something was not right, but my thoughts were muddled. When I found you, you led me to a room in the East tower and offered me a cup. It was filled with Fairy blood. I couldn't think, I couldn't stop. I didn't_ want_ to stop because, all the while, she wore your face. I knew that you should not be there and yet I ignored it. I didn't want to question it because I was finally with you. I finally had you in the way that has haunted my dreams since the moment we met.

When it was over and she lifted her enchantment, she laughed at me. She told me that I was hers and that I _would_ come to her, but that she would let me have you, my little servant girl, first if that was what I wanted. Sookie, she knows. Somehow she has found out everything. I swear to you that I speak the truth." Sookie stood there, her body robbed of its voice. Could she believe him? Was she willing to take the chance? She looked into his face, so filled with pain, his eyes so earnestly entreating her to believe him, and she remembered Brynja's words from that very morning. Freyda was dangerous. She was someone not one to cross. They whispered she was a witch.

Finally finding her voice, she looked at Eric once more, felt her hands, trapped between them on the hard plains of his chest, relax from the fists she had made of them.

"I believe you. Eric…I'm sorry. I should not have taunted you like that. What she did….I'm sorry." She said softly. She felt Eric's hands, which had been gripping her arms like two iron bands, relax and his head fall forward on his shoulders, his hair tumbling in front of his face. Without believing that it could be possible, she saw his chest begin to heave and heard his breath come out in gasping sobs. Gently lifting back his hair, she watched as the thick red drops of his tears slid down his face, falling onto the whiteness of her dress and staining it in streaks of crimson.

"I swear to you, I want no one but you Sookie. I have never loved another before and I will never love another again. There is only you!" He sobbed. Sookie felt the last icy strings of her anger melt away. She believed him. She could not do otherwise when she saw him like this, broken and empty before her. And she hated Freyda suddenly, with an intensity that she had never known possible, almost as much as she hated herself at that moment. This evil woman had nearly torn them apart for her own pleasure and amusement. Sookie had nearly let her. And even though it had not worked, Freyda had hurt the man she loved in a way that was unspeakable. And then she, believing him to invincible to ever be unwillingly tricked, had met his honesty with derision. She looked at him now and wanted nothing more than to heal his hurt.

There seemed to be nothing left of the fearsome creature that had frightened her, or the passionate lover that had ignited her desire. He seemed utterly ruined, dashed on the rocks like a ship too close to shore during a storm. It frightened her, terrified her to see him this way, more than his anger ever had, even more than his coldness ever had. It was wrong for him to be this way. He was strong. He was fearless and ruthless. She wanted him passionate and feral and vicious and loving as he had always appeared to her before. She could not let him surrender like this; could not let that woman defeat him.

Doing the only thing she could think of to break him from this sudden mood, she let her hands fist into the hair that she had been smoothing back and used them to force his face to hers. Locking eyes with him, willing the intensity of her love and her passion into him she let her mouth descend over his, crashing into him, her lips bruising against his, her teeth clashing against his own as her hands left his hair to make their way around his arms, grabbing on to the hard protrusions of his shoulder blades and forcing him to stay tight against her. She willed him, with all her might, to forget what had happened and to come back to her.

The shift in his mood was sudden and unmistakable. One moment she was leading him, coaxing him with her lips and teeth and the next his tongue was insistent, forceful, demanding entrance to her mouth, his fangs crashing down and cutting into her bottom lip.

She would have pulled away at the sudden unexpected jolt of pain, but his hands had fisted themselves into her hair and would not allow her, forcing her to let him swallow her cries instead. When she was finally able to break free to gasp for air, she saw that the strange fragility he had given into moments before was completely gone. Before her now stood both of his natures, and she watched with terrified excitement as they merged into a single being right in front of her. At that moment he was both the monster, driven by the darkness and anger that he felt at what had happened last night, and the lover, needing and adoring her, forgiving her for her faithless disbelief in his honesty. He was the man of her dreams and the creature of her nightmares all at once. His height suddenly became imposing and fear inducing, his pale face streaked with the garish red of his tears, his eyes burning with both love and all-consuming need.

She watched as his chest continued to heave with unnecessary gasps and his hands flexed, fisting and relaxing over and over again. Part of her was petrified; the other part of her exhilarated. Part of her wanted to run and the other part wanted to stay and see what he would do. She remembered Brynja's words from their first meeting - never run from a Vampire. Telling the frightened part of herself that escape was useless, she gave the other half of herself the permission it so desperately wanted to be unafraid, to love and to want all of him, to revel in his darkness as much as she exalted in his tenderness, to replace every hurt that had occurred with a joy of their own making.

"Show me then that I am the only one you love. Take away this image in my head of you with her." She commanded him, her voice soft like a whisper but filled with absolute authority. He needed no further prompting. He too needed to replace the images of what had happened last night with a true vision of them together. Pulling her even closer, he stared deeply into her determined eyes as he took the sides of her dress in his hands and let the fabric rip down the center. This time there was no gasp of surprise from her. She stared him down, a heat that matched his own suffusing her gaze as she let the torn and stained fabric fall from her shoulders and puddle on the floor.

Wrapping one arm under her knees and one behind her back, he picked her up and carried her through to the bed, laying her down and pulling back to gaze on her once more. Her hair spread across the pillows, shining in the moonlight and the dying embers of the fire. Her arms were flung wide, her legs slightly bent, her tiny feet rubbing against the softness of the bed linens.

His heart swelled and his cock ached as he stared at her, letting his eyes roam over every part of her, completely enthralled. Stepping back from the bed, he slowly removed his clothing, letting her watch, building their mutual anticipation as he went, until he stood before her, naked and ready.

She held out her arms to him and, for a single moment, he felt fear that he was again ensnared in a trap. The sight of her was exactly the sight that he had seen last night, but when he looked at her face, he did not see a wanton sneer or an evil glint: he saw only her pure, genuine eyes, welcoming him, all of him, back to her.

Laying himself on top of her, wrapping his arms around her, nestling into the curve of her hips and burying his face into the bend of her neck, he allowed himself a moment to just hold her, to submerge his senses in her. He marveled that, with all the needs and desires rushing through him, this felt nothing like it had last night. He had no desire to harm her, to hurt her and he had no feeling of being muddled, incoherent, or out of control.

Instead he felt more awake, more lucid and more alive than he had felt at any moment since he had left her on the beach. Squeezing her gently, he inhaled her scent for a moment and then looked up at her, astonished. Having seen Halbjorn's marks on her, he had prepared himself for the inevitable, had prepared to smell the evidence of what had been taken from him. He had been too wound, too worried for both of their safeties, to notice much of anything the night before, but he had seen the marks in the hall earlier. He knew that it had not been done by her choice, nor had she the ability to refuse her husband and, though it caused him anguish to know what was his had been taken by another, he would not let it drive another wedge between. But it was not there. She was as innocent as she had ever been, despite the punctures on her neck and the slight hint of his King's blood in her system. He did not know how this could be, but he knew at that particular moment he could not have cared less.

She was his; she was his and no one else's. Looking at her now, seeing her smile indulgently as she guessed what he must be thinking, he could only return her joy. Their lips met once more and he tenderly laved the small cuts his fangs had made, healing and caring for her as their bodies rejoiced in the feeling of being pressed together without barrier once more. Her arms went around his neck and her legs around his waist. He did not know the reason Halbjorn had not claimed her last night, but he knew that he could not do so fully either, or she would smell unmistakably of him. He remembered his words on their beach though: there was so much more and he would teach her all of it until they could finally claim each other fully.

When their mouths broke apart again, he slid himself down till his mouth reached the peaks of her glorious breasts. Two hundred and seventy years and he had never seen their equal. He paid them the worship they were due now, licking and nipping at their fullness, drinking in her cries of pleasure as he did, until neither of them could hold back any longer and he found himself forced by his own desire to take one beautiful, rose petal soft peak into his mouth.

Knowing that he could not bite her completely, he allowed his fangs to scrape against her nipple again and again, drawing tiny ribbons of her intoxicating blood and then healing them instantly as he caressed them with his tongue. As he continued, driving her ever crazier as he switched from one peak to the other and then back again, his hands wandered down between her parted legs and gently spread her sweet folds. He felt the slick heat that resided there and it made him shudder with want.

Taking himself in hand, he let his erection glide against her lovely slit and began to thrust gently, letting the friction of his sex against hers drive them both mad. When she felt him moving against her most secret of places, even as his tongue, teeth and lips continued their sweet torture of her breasts, she began to moan uncontrollably. Every time his head brushed her nub, he bit down gently on her nipples and the combination of the pleasure and the pain was so intense that it barely took anytime at all for her to feel her first climax overtaking her.

Grabbing Eric's shoulders tightly, she held on as though she would fall into the abyss as her pleasure overcame her. He watched in wrapped fascination, utterly enthralled, as her orgasm took her, staining her cheeks with the most bewitching of blushes and making molten orbs of her fathomless blue eyes.

When she returned to herself, she looked up at him with disbelieving eyes. Nothing had ever made her feel as good as he did, and yet she still wanted more. She could feel him, still hard and wanting against her sex, and she needed more than anything to bring him pleasure as well. She remembered their last night together on the beach, the exquisite sensations he'd introduced her to when he'd tasted her sex. She wanted to know what he tasted like as well.

"Eric…" She began, she wanted to tell him what she wanted, but the words embarrassed her.

"Tell me, Sookie. Tell me what you want and I will give it to you, anything, without hesitation." He meant every word of it. Even if it cost him his existence he knew, if she asked him to take her fully, he would. All he could think about was changing the angle at which he rested against her ever so slightly and sliding into her unbelievable heat. Seeing him still so crazed gave her the courage to say it.

"I…I want to taste you. Will you let me?" She finally asked, the blush that her orgasm had brought on now staining her body down to the tips of her breasts. Eric watched it spread and felt himself come nearly undone with his desire.

"As I do you." Laying back on the pillows, he pulled her over him and arranged her so that her legs fell open over his shoulders, baring her beautiful, glistening folds to his eyes. He felt her head lay gently across his thigh as she took his aching length, completely coated in the sweet nectar of her desire, in her hand and began to pump it gently.

The feeling of triumph that spread through her when his hips bucked up at her touch, was unlike anything that she had ever felt before and it spurred her on, knowing that she was bringing him pleasure. Slowly she brought her tongue out and began to lick up and down his shaft, tasting the unique blend of his most sensitive skin and the evidence of her own passion. It was an unbelievable flavor and, before she could think on it too much, she found herself sliding his head between her lips, sucking him feverishly, trying with everything that she was to fit him entirely in her mouth.

He was dying, he was sure of it. Her hot little mouth engulfed him, bringing him, with every bob of her head, every swipe of her tongue, closer and closer to his final death. The only thing that prevented it, was the beautiful aroma that wafted to him from her prettily parted thighs. Her sex, pink and soft and shimmering with a honey even sweeter than blood, enticed him to stay only a little longer in the realm of the living. He followed the siren song that was the scent of her arousal until it brought him in contact with her delicious sex. And when she nipped the head of his straining cock with her blunt little teeth, causing the most exquisite pain he had ever felt, he buried his face completely in her folds and began to feast as though it would be his last meal.

Taking her pretty pearl between his teeth, he sucked it as he had her nipples, pulling it firmly into his mouth and swiping his tongue across it over and over again until neither of them could take the sweet torture any longer and they both came, loud and long. He, muffling his cries in her folds as he lapped up every drop of desire that escaped her. She, moaning at the first exquisite taste of his pleasure as he released into her eager mouth over and over again.

Collapsing in exhaustion, she felt Eric take hold of her and bring her to lay in his arms. He looked down at her, his eyes soft and tender, as he took in the sight of his angel, his goddess, sated and utterly exhausted at his hands. Kissing her softly, tasting both of their flavors on her lips, he could not stop his hands from wandering back down to the heaven between her thighs and gently, softly stroking her to one final, lazy release.

When he heard her cry out, the pleasure wrung from her completely, he brought her head to rest on his shoulder and let her fall into a light sleep, content to watch over her and hold her in his arms until the first rays of dawn lit the sky.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Hi! Um, can I start by saying the biggest thank you to everyone who has been reviewing this story or put it in their favorites or on alert! THANK YOU! I seriously cannot express how grateful I am to you all, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart!_

_I've gotten some great questions about Halbjorn and Sookie's "marriage" and Sookie and Eric's predicament in the last couple of chapters and, I hope I answered them well, but wanted to re-iterate just in case there are those reading who haven't asked but are scratching their heads. So I'm using Sookie and Eric's marriage in the D&G as my model here. In that scenario (possibly because she's a human and not considered as important as another Vampire) it seemed that the only thing needed for their marriage to be valid was the exchanging of the knife. Victor never questions the validity of the marriage on the basis of consummation, even though, presumably, he has a good nose and their in a small room, so he should have been able to tell that (blood bonded or not) Sookie and Eric weren't sleeping together back then. I'm applying the same principles here, since this is a Human/Vampire marriage (so not of equals) the exchanging of the knife is good enough, the little blood swap was a bonus, but Halbjorn doesn't have to sleep with her. She is considered as a possession, he can do or not do anything he wants with her._

_As for Eric and Sookie predicament, I'm going on the fact that whenever Sookie hugs someone who smells "offensive" she's always being asked to take a shower. The implication being that evidence of physical contact can be washed away, so as long as they don't "seal the deal" she'll retain the scent of innocence and any surface contact smell of Eric can be bathed away. That's what we're working with right now, but we'll see soon, the prospect of a lifetime of foreplay only and no biting is frustrating for both of them!_

_I really hope that makes sense. I'll thank my beta Sheknitsnicely- who is awesome- and stop talking now._

_Disclaimer: I don't own them…._

When Sookie woke it was still dark. Attempting to stretch her deliciously sated body, she came in contact with something smooth, hard and long; something that, sensing her sudden consciousness, was wrapping itself around her in the sweetest way.

"Eric." She whispered quietly, so unbelievably happy to find out that she hadn't dreamed it all. Feeling him nuzzle her hair and run his hands possessively along her still naked body, she turned gently, opening her eyes and drinking him in.

The moonlight, which streamed in from the casement, hit him directly and set him aglow, as though she were lying next to a star that had fallen from the heavens. His hair, golden and long, lay spread across the pillow, mingling and mixing with her own, until the strands were only distinguishable as his or hers by their length. His skin shone, pale and beautiful, each ripple of muscle and hard contour seeming to be illuminated from within. His eyes, their stormy blue just discernible in the low light, seemed to burn and, for the first time in a long time, she knew they burned with nothing but love.

He was, in this moment, completely her Eric, without a trace of the other, darker side of him. She wondered that peace between them could so easily call forth his gentleness, while strife so quickly brought out his demon. Perhaps it was that way for all real lovers and perhaps, in truth, they weren't so different from everyone else. Perhaps they were simply more: their feelings more raw and intense, but not unique.

"Have you been watching me sleep this whole time?" She asked, laying her head next to his on the pillow and running her hands up and down the beautiful, smooth plains of his chest. He smiled wide and true in return, nodding his head, looking almost abashed to have been caught doing something so innocent.

"What can I say, I am besotted." She could only laugh softly when she heard him say that.

"I would not have called your behavior these past weeks love sick. Terrifying, confusing, cruel or unkind perhaps, but not besotted." She had meant it only as a teasing joke, but she saw his expression suddenly change, becoming intense, even a little frightening. Taking her chin with a still gentle hand, he captured her eyes with his own and, even though she felt not a moment of pressure on her mind, she knew that he was willing her to listen and to understand him.

"That is where you are mistaken, Sookie. Everything I have done in the past weeks has been out of love sickness, and you know now that a love sick Vampire is a terrifying thing. It's why we are taught never to give in to such strong emotions: it overwhelms us and we lose our ability to control ourselves. Can you imagine a hoard of love stricken Vampires, jilted by their hearts' desires? They would slaughter the whole world in their grief and anger. I should never have allowed myself to feel these things for you in the first place and, having felt them, I should have killed you to free myself." He felt the shiver that ran through her and smiled softly, regretting that he had frightened her again without meaning to. He knew, even if she did not, that he would never act on those words. "I cannot. Your death would not free me. It would destroy me for the rest of my existence. You are in me now, little Fairy princess; I will never be free of you, nor would I wish to be." Closing the tiny space between them, he brushed his lips gently against hers. The kiss did not have the raging passion that those they had shared earlier possessed, but it was filled with a depthless devotion.

"I didn't jilt you." She teased him softly, pulling away. Chuckling with more good humor than he had felt in many years, he gently brushed his nose against hers.

"Shall we play this game? Who did what to whom, who loved first, who hurt first? I think I will pass, I do not like to lose." This time it was she who laughed.

"Go ahead and concede. Then I still win, and without the time wasted getting us both angry again!" She watched the corners of his mouth quirk up at her statement. They had learned much about each other, even in their weeks of discord, and one thing he had come to realize about her was that she was every bit as combative and competitive as he was. She would argue with him, to the point of enraging him, just to win. It was an unexpected quality in a Human; one that made her unique and interesting to creatures who were so used to getting their way, either through intimidation or glamour, but also a dangerous one, her sense of self-preservation seeming to be sorely lacking.

"Why has Halbjorn not touched you?" He asked suddenly, no longer able to hold back the question that had been nagging at him all night. "It was to his chamber that I went first last night. I was surprised not to find you there, but there was no time to think about it then." His face was inches from hers and she could see the curiosity burning in his eyes.

"He has no interest in me. He wants only my blood and my ability." She answered matter-of-factly, hoping that she would not have to go into details, but knowing that she would if he demanded it. So much suffering between them had been caused by simple omission that she would not make that mistake again. She knew that, from now on, she must be completely honest with him. Studying his reaction now, she saw plainly his look of incredulity as his desire to believe her warred with his knowledge of his own nature and that of his King's.

"Vampires do not simply feed, Sookie, it is impossible. Nor do they find beautiful, gifted, innocent, partly Fae princesses physically uninteresting." Each word he used to describe her was matched by a caress somewhere on her body and she felt herself beginning to heat up under his passionate evaluation of her charms.

"This one does. Besides, why is it so hard to believe that he could refrain from bedding me? You did so. You fed from me for four nights without ever taking more than a kiss. Why do you believe he is incapable of the same?"

"We've talked about that already. You saved me. You cared for me and loved me. You made me feel those same things for you, things I did not know I still could. I was and am besotted. I am not acting like a normal Vampire." She could see him trying to make sense of it. She knew that it was not her secret to share, but it was clear now that she would need to tell him everything, or he would not understand.

"He loves Brynja and desires no one else. The night we arrived, he came to me privately and made me an offer. If I used my gift to help him and gave him my blood when he asked for it, he would give me a comfortable life here and leave me unmolested. I did not understand at first why he would make me such a generous offer since, after all, I am his prisoner, and one given to be so by her own family: no one would come to rescue me if he chose to abuse me. It was Brynja who supplied me, however unwittingly, with the missing piece of the puzzle. They love each other truly, just as we do, but he is afraid to admit it. He thinks it will make him look weak." The whole time that Sookie had been speaking, Eric remained quiet, listening intently, feeling the missing pieces of the puzzle fall into place for him as well. But now he interrupted, wanting her to understand something very fundamental about the situation they now found themselves in.

"He is right. It _would_ make him look weak. He rules over a vast swathe of land, the entirety of the North since the war began, and the Vampires chose to unite and raise only three High Monarchs. Halbjorn won his position by being ruthless, cruel and vicious. He was thought the best choice, not just because he is old and a skilled warrior, but because he appears the least…Human. He has been playing a dangerous game these many years just by keeping Brynja. By rights he should have turned her or killed her long ago. If the monarchs who owe him fealty ever got wind of this, they would take him down faster than a pack of wolves hunting an injured deer.

I have been with him a hundred and twenty three years and I admit that, whenever I thought perhaps he might be growing too soft with her, I remembered all the things I have seen him do and reminded myself that, though Halbjorn is many things- (and not all of them good-) foolish enough to love a Human is not one of them." Sookie looked at him and it was her turn to wear a look of incredulity. It seemed that Brynja was right once again: there were many Vampires putting on a show and some of them were even fooling themselves.

"Well there you are. Now you know you're not the only Vampire capable of being foolish." She laughed just a little and his answering snort was slightly derisive.

"Indeed, all we have to do now is throw some unattainable enchantress at Wallace and we'll be well on our way to having that love stricken hoard." The mere thought of the huge, barely civilized Scot driven near insane by unrequited love, was as chillingly disturbing as it was amusing.

"I think it best we don't. There are far too many battle axes lying about and I would not wish to feel responsible for any love sickness induced brainings!" That seemed to get a genuine laugh from Eric and she marveled that she had never heard such a sound from him before. It was beautiful and she wanted to hear it again, yet there was still so much they needed to talk about. "Do you think that we should be honest with his Majesty? He might understand. Maybe he would…give us his permission?" The look of hope on her face was so beautiful and innocent that Eric wished he did not have to answer and be responsible for whipping it away.

"Sookie, we cannot. For all the reasons we spoke of, he cannot be seen to be allowing another Vampire, one of his servants no less, to take what is his. You are a valuable asset to him and a spoil of war. If he gave his permission to us, he would look to be losing you to me, and that would make him appear not just weak, but would make others wonder why he was so willing to give you up without even a fight. Vampires are not known for their kindness or generosity and it would be assumed that he did not want you and then people would wonder why. It would not take much imagination to conclude that his human pet, the woman who was there before you, was jealous and held too much sway with him. You may or may not realize it yet, but you are far more important to him as a smoke screen than as a mind reader."

"Then we will continue as we are now?" She asked, hopeful that, even if it must be a secret, it would not have to end. This time, when his lips brushed hers, they held the familiar heat that she already craved so much.

"That is entirely up to you, Sookie. I think it best to beg for forgiveness if we are ever discovered, rather than take the risk of asking permission and have him separate us, as would be his right. Or…we could run?" He had never run from anything in his life. The mere thought of retreating, of fleeing like a coward, rankled him, but for Sookie he would do it. To have a life with her, openly, he would risk the danger, live with the shame.

Sookie looked down at the space between them trying to keep the tears she suddenly felt stinging her eyes from falling. Why did it seem that she was forever trapped? Here he was, once again offering to take her away from everything and give her the life they both so desperately wanted, and here she was again, unable to accept. Looking at him with all the love she held in her heart, her unshed tears glistening in the lowlight of the moon, she shook her head.

"No, Eric, we can't. My grandfather and my people are depending on me. If you and I fled, Halbjorn would be forced to seek vengeance, and not just on us, he would visit it back on the Fairies as well. I may not have had the family that I wished to have but they are still my blood. This war nearly destroyed them and, as it is, it may still lead to their extinction. My grandfather has put aside so much of his life for the sake of duty and he taught me that such sacrifice is a part of the price one pays for being born a Brigant. I cannot repay everything he has given me and everything he has taught me by thinking of my own happiness before the very lives of so many others." He nodded solemnly, understanding her reasons even though he despised them.

"And yet he must want you to be happy? He loves you, does he not?" It was a last ditch effort and a shameless attempt at manipulation, but he could not help himself. He wanted her to be his and no one else's and, while it soothed him somewhat that Halbjorn would not try to bed her, he still felt the beast of his possessiveness snarling at the very sight of the fang marks on her neck. They should be his. All of her should be his, anything less was simply wrong.

Falling from her side onto her back, heedless of the linens and blankets that slipped to her hips as she did so, she contemplated the velvet hangings above her head, trying to make herself feel the decisiveness that her words had implied.

"He loves me very much. Before I left, he gave me something I never would have asked for." Turning her head, she looked at Eric and saw him waiting patiently for her to finish. "He gave me a potion infused with a spell that, when I drank it and then let Halbjorn drink from me, would have made us fall in love." She felt the exact moment Eric's mood shifted. Faster than her eyes could track, he was no longer lying next to her, patiently drinking in her words, but fully on top of her, his body caging hers, pressing it into the mattress as his face, filled with anxiety and worry, came to rest not an inch form her own.

"You did not take it though. You will not take it?" He asked, his eyes searching hers for reassurance, sounding more as though he was trying to convince himself than her. Bringing her arms around his neck and spreading her legs wide to welcome his hips into the warm, soft haven between her thighs, she reached up and kissed him, hard and sure.

"I did not, nor would I ever. Halbjorn made it easy for me not to, when he made me his offer, but even if he had not, I still would not have used it." The look of relief that suddenly washed over Eric's face was almost comical, but it was quickly replaced with one of deep curiosity.

"Why not? If he loved you, you would have been assured of safety and happiness here." His words were the very echo of her grandfather's.

"Perhaps, but it would not have been real. And though my grandfather didn't know it, I had already felt true love. Even if you and I had never met again, or if we had never been able to forgive each other, I could never have let myself settle for the fabrication of love when I had felt its true form. I accepted his gift because it proved, beyond doubt, that no matter what he had been forced to agree to, my grandfather loved me. I needed something solid to hold on to, to remember that fact during the days that we traveled here. But I would never have taken it, no matter how badly things could have turned out. It is not who I am, to allow myself to be tricked into feeling something that is false." Leaning up and kissing him again, she felt the smile that played on his lips.

"I promise you, you will never have to imagine how true love feels. I will show you every night, whether we must do so in secret or not." Holding her close, he allowed himself to just revel in the fact that they were here together. He would do what he must for them to be together, even if it meant watching her play at being another's, even if it meant curbing his own natural instincts and desires, because he knew, no matter how hard it might be, the alternative, not being with her, was simply unbearable.

Looking at her once more, he captured her lips and then her eyes, "Whatever you do, keep the potion close. It never hurts to have a little magic up your sleeve." She nodded and tried to stifle her laughter: devious and dangerous to the last, her Vampire.

"I promise." She said solemnly.

"Good." Looking at the window, he saw the first streaks of light blue just beginning to paint the sky. "Dawn is coming, I must go." Taking her lips one last time and wrapping his arms around her so that her sweet, tiny body was pressed along the length of his, he tried to literally absorb her into himself, one last time, before going to his rest. "I love you, my Sookie." He breathed into her hair, before leaving the room faster than her eyes could see.

"I love you, my Eric, with everything that I am." She sighed, happy and contented, for the first time in so long, her eyes drifting closed once more.

.oO~*~Oo.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, things began to settle into a quiet routine. During the days, Saoirse and Brynja amused themselves with picnics and horse rides through the countryside, or simply sat back and watched Amena rule over her Ladies in waiting with an iron fist and an ever present scowl of disapproval. At night she played at being Queen, sitting upon her throne with Halbjorn, whom she had begun to consider more her consort than husband, reading the Humans who came to court with their Vampire masters and helping to settle disputes: she had even ferreted out several plots against his throne.

Whenever her continued innocence was remarked upon, though those brave enough to question the King were few and far between, Halbjorn took pains to proclaim loudly that the taste of her partly Fae blood along with her innocence rendered her a delicacy unlike any a Vampire had been favored with before. And, since he wanted not for any number of beautiful and willing bed partners, he made it clear that he intended to keep her that way for the foreseeable future. Humiliating as it was to be talked of that way, the answer seemed to satisfy the Vampires of the court and eventually they left off wondering about her continued virginity, though she doubted not that they fully enjoyed laughing about it behind her back, as did her spiteful and spoiled Ladies in waiting. In all though Saoirse thought the deception, no matter how embarrassing, a small price to pay when set against the alternative of being made to service a man she did not love, and who did not love her.

When his Majesty was not holding court, she spent her nights in the King's apartments with Halbjorn, Eric, Wallace, Haldis and sometimes also Brynja, though she became aware quite quickly that the King took great pains to keep his mistress as separate as possible from his Vampire companions, attempting to downplay her importance to him.

She and Eric continued in public to behave coldly towards one another, pretending on many occasions to openly argue so that no one would suspect anything had changed between them. When Halbjorn dismissed them all, always several hours before dawn, so that he could spend that time with Brynja (though only she and Eric knew this) she would make her way back to her apartments, dismiss Amena to sleep with Brynja's maid and wait the few minutes till Eric would come to her.

On the nights they 'fought' he was always more intense, more passionate, attempting to express through the considerable talents of his lips, tongue, teeth and hands, that their pretense of hurting one another with often vicious words was now just that, a pretense. On such nights he would always have to put his hand over her mouth when he brought her to climax, to muffle the violent screams of her pleasure and avoid alerting the guards to the fact that she was not alone.

Though she often felt guilty for the deception they were forced to carry on and the consequences it could have if she and Eric were discovered, she felt, in all, that her life here with the Vampires she had always been taught to fear and revile, to think of as less than even Human, was far happier than it had ever been with her own kin. Amena filled her life with the steady love of a mother, as she always had; Brynja was the true friend that she had always wished for and been denied with her family; Halbjorn treated her with the respect of a true partner, even if he was not a true husband; and Haldis and Wallace filled her nights with knowledge and laughter respectively.

And Eric. Eric filled her entire being with a love and passion that she had never known existed. She had thought, in the weeks that followed his leaving their beach, that she would never experience anything that approached the joy she had felt then. But he had shown her that it had only been the beginning. It made no difference if they were wrapped in each other's arms, one ruining the other with release after soul- shattering release, or talking in whispers as they lay tangled in the soft sheets of her bed, of the lives they had led before meeting each other, or sitting across the crowded expanse of the great hall: just a single glance from him could fill her whole body with the warmth of his presence.

This night, now buried deep in the snows of the northern winter, found them, as most evenings did, sitting in Halbjorn's receiving chamber, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Wallace sat across from her, losing at their game of chess with his normal good nature. Haldis sat in a chair on the other end of the hearth, perusing a book that one of the nobles had brought back from his travels abroad as a gift for her, as Eric and Halbjorn sat at the window discussing the news that had come from Antonious, the High King of the South.

Relieving Wallace of his final rook, she heard Halbjorn mention that Antonious wished to meet with him and Sa'ida, the High Queen of the Midlands, to discuss the peace that had been made. All at once Wallace left off his congratulating her on what would be her now inevitable victory, turning his head towards his King and his Commander with a worried gaze. Following his gaze, she saw that Eric had gone preternaturally still, even for a Vampire.

"What is it?" She whispered, as softly as possible, so that only Wallace would hear. Turning back to her, Wallace frowned deeply, a look that would have been disturbing on any Vampire but was especially so on the face of the normally jovial scot.

"If Antonious comes, he will bring Appius Livius Ocella with him. Ocella is his Commander at Arms." Seeing her look of bewilderment, Wallace explained further. "Ocella is Eric's maker and a monster even for a Vampire." Icy fear seeped through her at those words. In their many nights together, Eric had told her much about both his life before his turning and of his adventures with Halbjorn and Wallace. But he had always refused to tell her anything about his turning or of the roughly hundred and fifty years, as close as she could surmise, that he spent with his maker. All he would ever say about that was that it was not for the ears of an angel to hear about the devil himself. It was a sweet, if patronizing, sentiment, but she never challenged him on it, knowing that his reluctance had far more to do with his abhorrence of remembering those many years than any true worry that she was to fragile too handle hearing it.

Before she could work up the courage to question Wallace further, there was a commotion on the other side of the door. The guards of the King's chambers burst in behind the imposing and unexpected figure of none other than Saoirse's own grandfather. All in the room rose as he strode in, looking slightly disheveled and covered in a great deal of grime.

"Grandfather!" Saoirse exclaimed loudly, forgetting anything else for a moment and rushing to his side. Niall embraced her tightly, seeming to sag with relief when he saw her here, safe and obviously happy. Clutching her to him as though she might, with the mere strength of her embrace, keep him from falling to pieces, he buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair inhaling her lovely scent and using it to calm himself. When he heard the sound of the King unnecessarily clearing his throat, he reluctantly released her.

"Granddaughter, I am pleased to see you so well." He said, his voice filled with genuine happiness for that one moment. Laying a last gentle and genuine kiss to the top of her head, he turned his attention to her husband, his expression reverting back to one of deep despondency.

"Vampire, I am come on a matter of great urgency." He said authoritatively, the strength of his voice belying the defeated look he wore.

"This is plain." Halbjorn replied, a stiff note to his voice. Nodding to the guards that they were dismissed, he waited until they had closed the doors behind them. Saoirse stepped back and watched as Wallace began to discreetly clear away the chess board and pieces. "Your business, Fairy?" Halbjorn demanded, his voice now devoid of its more usual easy confidence, replaced instead with a tone that brooked only fear and respect and demanded an immediate answer.


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: So I have to start by apologizing for the cliffy at the end of last chapter. I totally did not mean to be cruel, it's just that if I hadn't stopped there these two chapters combined would have been one monstrous beast. _

_Thanks as always to my awesome beta, Sheknitsnicely! You are the best girl! And to everyone who's reviewed, alerted, and favorited this story! I say it over and over because it's true- I am truly grateful!_

_As a reminder (cause there in the next couple of chapters) Claude=Ceannaideach, Claudette= Caronwyn and Claudine= Ceiridwyn._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…. _

As Saoirse sat and listened to the story that Niall brought with him, she could barely control her rising sense of dread. Ceiridwyn and Caronwyn had been abducted from Coleman's home and Coleman and, the majority of his men, had been slaughtered. The surviving soldiers had managed to capture one of the men responsible and they had brought him to Niall. After two days under extreme duress he had finally confessed everything he knew. He owed fealty to Breandan and it was Breandan himself who had masterminded the attack, but it was not he who had carried it out. Niall's next words were so shocking to her that, at first, she thought perhaps she had misheard him.

Ceannaideach, her cousin, and Ceiridwyn and Caronwyn's own brother, had been the one to lead the band of abductors and assassins. It was he who had gained the group access to the castle without so much as a raised sword, by pretending that they were his men and accompanying him as he returned from a mission for Niall. It was Ceannaideach himself who had plunged the iron blade through the heart of his sister's husband and dragged Ceiridwyn from the castle as she screamed in grief and terror. Breandan had provided the men, but it was Ceannaideach who had ruthlessly executed their plan.

Niall's rage was clearly apparent as he recounted the tale but, oddly, he did not seem surprised. She had always known that Breandan was a snake in the grass, even before her grandfather had deemed her old enough to know the truth of his guilt in the death of her Human family, and she had never held any love for her male cousin who was vain, power hungry and devious; but this was a treachery beyond anything she could ever have foreseen. The Fairy race was on the brink of being extinguished, their numbers terribly reduced by the endless decades of war, and yet Breandan and Ceannaideach had just willfully and without compunction slaughtered dozens more of their own kind. It was unthinkable and made all the worse when Niall revealed that Ceiridwyn was pregnant.

"And so you have come to me. Why?" Halbjorn asked, his voice remaining chillingly distant as he stared Niall down. The look on Halbjorn's face was the look she remembered knowing he must be capable of that first night, when he came to her chamber to strike their bargain. An icy stare so without life or compassion that it could freeze a man down to his very bones. He was, as he stood there now before her grandfather, his former enemy, the embodiment of every frightening tale Saoirse had ever heard of him: cold, monstrous, devoid. She found herself shocked at how quickly and easily he could shed his shroud of seeming humanity. Saoirse had never seen this side of him, but she instinctively knew that before her now stood the part of Halbjorn that had won him the right to be High King. This was the Vampire that lay underneath the layers of civility he allowed himself to wear in private. "Surely you have not come here presuming on our…familial connection to ask for assistance in your fight with Breandan? No matter my regard for your great granddaughter, I will not become involved in a Fairy squabble." Niall's face became almost red with rage as he listened to Halbjorn attempting to dismiss him.

"I have not. If this were purely a matter between Breandan and myself it would remain so. I have come because it no longer involves only Fairies." Halbjorn contemplated Niall's answer for one moment and then gestured for him to continue. "My granddaughters have been taken to Helvete Grind." Niall's words hung in the air for a long moment as the shock of them settled upon each of the inhabitants of the room. Helvete Grind, deep in the heart of the Eastlands, was the stronghold of the Queen Freyda.

Without even thinking, Saoirse turned to the window to look at Eric. She found his eyes were already upon her and the two shared a moment in which both of them realized the greater implications of what had just been said.

Not noticing the look that passed between his wife and his Commander, Halbjorn continued to stare Niall down as he assessed the situation. He had wanted to turn the Fairy Prince away. He had no desire to get caught up in the petty squabbles of the Fairy royal houses for control of the throne, and he had no reason to suspect that this was anything more than that. However, Freyda's unexpected involvement changed the game.

While he had no care for what any of his Vampires did in private, the housing of two abducted Fairy Princesses was a flagrant violation of the peace he had made and, as Freyda was his vassal, he could not overlook her disobedience. To allow her to go unpunished or to hesitate to help Niall would make him look weak before others, as if he were unable to control his own subjects. He had no idea what incentive Freyda had for joining forces with the two Fairy Princes in this plot, but in the greater scheme of things the answer mattered little. The fact that she _had_ joined them was the only point of true significance. Sighing heavily, he turned to Eric.

"Gather a contingent of men." Eric nodded, bowing deeply to his King before the Fairy Prince.

"I must return to my home and make sure that all is well there. I will send Rival to you with a contingent of Fairies to assist your Lord Commander at first dark tomorrow." Halbjorn nodded. With that, Niall turned to Saoirse and held out his hand to her.

"My granddaughter, I regret that I cannot stay and spend more time with you, but it pleases me to see you so…well treated. When this is over I will visit with you more properly." With that, Niall took her into his embrace once more and kissed the top of her head before disappearing in a burst of light. When he had gone, the Vampires began to bustle about, making ready for the battle to come.

"Wallace, come with me, we have things to do." Eric commanded brusquely as he turned, leaving the room. Wallace bowed quickly and followed Eric out, a small smile playing on his face. The war had been over for seven months now, and in his opinion they had already gone far too long without a proper fight. If nothing else, Freyda had just provided him with an excellent opportunity to do what he loved best, swing an axe, and he would enjoy every moment of it.

"Haldis, leave us as well." Halbjorn ordered, taking a seat in one of the large chairs before the fire and contemplating the flames intently. When the door closed behind Haldis, Saoirse realized that the two of them were quite alone all of a sudden. Looking up from the hearth, the King motioned for her to take the other chair.

"Thank you for helping my grandfather." She whispered softly, not knowing what else she should say, still stunned by the way the events of the last few minutes had suddenly thrown everything into turmoil. She was slightly startled to hear Halbjorn's derisive snort.

"I am only helping him because of Freyda's involvement." Saoirse nodded her head in understanding, looking first at the fire and then up into the eyes of this man who was her husband.

"I understand that. But then, the only reason he is asking you is because of Freyda's involvement." Halbjorn startled her by smiling wide at her reply, showing the fine, white row of his Human teeth.

"Of the many reasons I have to esteem you so highly, Lady, your keen mind and blunt tongue are among my favorites." Saoirse could only return his bright smile. It was so rare to see it, even when he was relaxed and more, what she had come to consider, his usual self.

"And among the many reasons I have to esteem you, my Lord, your enjoyment of keen minded, blunt women is _my_ favorite." Halbjorn snorted again, but this time it was with good humor.

"Indeed, if you, Brynja and Haldis have anything in common it would be keen minded bluntness." Sobering slightly, the smile dropping from his face, he caught her eyes and held them.

"It is my wish that you accompany Eric and Wallace." Saoirse could not help the look of surprise that crossed her face nor the accompanying raising of her eyebrows.

"My Lord?" She asked, not sure if she had heard him correctly.

"Wallace says that you can feel the emotions of Fairies even though you cannot read them completely as you do Humans. This is correct?" She nodded her head, beginning to understand why he was asking this of her.

"Good enough. If I am going to send Eric, Wallace and their men into danger with a pack of Fairies, then I would like someone to be there with them just in case, when it's done, the Fairies decide to turn on them. Besides, if need be, I am sure your cousins would prefer to have a woman there to help look after them." Saoirse bowed her head so that he would not see the sour expression that his last words had brought to her face. Once it had passed, she raised her head once more, looking directly at him so that he would see her sincerity.

"I swear that I will not let anything happen to Eric or Wallace." The words were said so earnestly that Halbjorn could not bring himself to scoff at the picture that they conjured in his mind of this tiny, mostly Human girl standing in front of the two huge and preternaturally strong warriors, sword drawn to protect them against their enemies. If ever there had been a woman bred to be a shield maiden, it was this one. Sometimes, just sometimes, he wondered whether he would have made her his shield maiden had they met at another time and in another place.

"I know you will not. If something were to happen to Wallace you'd have to put some thought into your game of chess." He chuckled softly before becoming serious once more. "And if something were to happen to Eric…." Halbjorn let his voice fade away without finishing his thought, but the look in his eyes told her everything his unfinished words had not. He knew. Somehow, he knew. She did not know when he had figured it out, but the expression he wore could not be mistaken.

"Your keen minded bluntness is certainly a worthy reason to esteem you, my Queen, but it is far from the only one. When I forced Niall into giving me a bride, as punishment for making war against me, I meant only to acquire a trophy and to teach an enemy a lesson. I never thought he would send me a woman I would grow to respect and admire as I have come to respect and admire you. These six months you have helped me rule my lands, befriended my woman and shown her a kindness and companionship that her heart was languishing from the lack of, and you have kept our secret. In all this time you have lived up to your end of our bargain with honor, never bemoaning the things that it has taken from you.

You will be many days and nights away from Upsala and the court. I give them to you as a gift. Let them take you both where _your hearts_ lead you." Before Saoirse could make any reply to his astonishing words, the door to the King's chamber opened once more. With no one else in the room, Eric forewent the customary bow and simply strode in, preparing to take any last minute orders. "Eric…the Queen and I were just talking about you. Is all prepared?"

"Yes, we will be ready to depart just after first dark tomorrow." Eric answered, his eyes focused on his King and his mind clearly immersed in the battle to come.

"Good. Eric, I am sending her Majesty with you. I suspect the Fairies will behave better with her there. They are aware of her ability and are more likely to think twice about attempting any trickery if they know she will be listening to them." Saoirse looked at Eric to see his reaction and she could just detect the veiled look of worry that crossed his features before they reverted back to an expression of neutrality.

"Do you really think that necessary? The Fairies came to us for peace; it would be beyond foolish of them to turn around and attack us." Halbjorn looked his Commander straight in the eye and, where Saoirse feared she would see anger at being questioned, she saw only a concern that was almost fatherly on Halbjorn's face.

"It would be entirely foolish." Halbjorn agreed. "But that does not negate the fact that they will be seeing two of their Princesses being brought out of a Vampire's castle, no doubt much the worse for wear. Emotions will be running high and they will want someone to blame. I simply do not wish to leave you vulnerable to their good graces during daylight. I'm sure you will agree that Saoirse has proved herself most helpful to you in that regard before." Eric thought over Halbjorn's words for a moment and Saoirse could see him coming to reluctant agreement with his King.

"What do you wish me to do with Freyda?" He asked instead, his voice becoming darker and his eyes taking on an eerie and frightening glow. She noticed, with a quiet shiver, that Halbjorn's eyes suddenly mirrored Eric's: bloodlust.

"Whatever you wish, as long as she never defies me again." The sounds of two pairs of fangs snicking down simultaneously caused her to jump slightly, catching the attention of both of the Vampires before her. For one breathless moment they both looked at her as though they were starving animals who had just caught sight of an easy meal, and Saoirse found herself repeating Brynja's words of advice over and over again silently, to keep from bolting from the chair. It was Halbjorn who seemed to regain his composure first.

"The hour grows late, Eric, will you see her Majesty safely back to her chamber? I'm sure she has much to do before you leave tomorrow night." Halbjorn commanded, seeming to regain his tenuous footing at the edge of control and turning to enter his bed chamber without another word.

Having been less successful at regaining his equilibrium, Eric now closed his eyes, drawing deep, unnecessary breaths in his attempt to calm himself and tamp down the bloodlust that had briefly overtaken him. Being so near Sookie when he felt like this was dangerous, and he had sworn many months ago that he would never allow himself to put her at peril again. When he finally felt more in control, he opened his eyes to find her staring at him. Her look was one of wary tenderness and it helped him take the final step back from the precipice. Silently he held out his hand to her and, after a moment, she took it, rising from her chair and allowing him to lead her out of the King's apartments.

Halbjorn's chamber, as well as those of most of the other Vampires, was in the West wing of the castle, and Sookie's in the East wing. They had not walked much more than half of the way when Eric stopped, pulling her into a darkened niche at the end of one of the smaller corridors. Sitting on a stone bench that had been placed there, he pulled her down onto his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he buried his face in the soft strands of her hair.

"I wish you were not coming." He began after a moment, his voice filled with the fear that she had seen cross his face ever so quickly in Halbjorn's chamber. "That Freyda is dangerous we already knew, but now it appears she is also deeply unhinged." Winding her hands through his long hair, she pulled his face from the crook of her neck so that she could see his eyes in the dim light.

"Why would she do this?" Sookie asked, feeling sure that she already knew the answer but wanting to hear if he agreed with her. Eric sighed deeply.

"To get me to come to her. She must have known that Niall would seek Halbjorn's aid to move against her. To do anything else would be to risk open war again. And therefore Halbjorn would send me to take care of the problem. I have not come to her as she expected I would, so she has found a way to force my hand. The greater question is, how deeply is she entrenched with Breandan and your cousin? Why would they bring his sisters to her instead of simply killing them? If what Niall has said is true and the two of them have joined forces to clear a path to Lidan's throne, then it would have been better for them to simply murder the women, especially if Ceiridwyn is pregnant with Coleman's child." His assessment, though painfully blunt, rang true.

"She is a sorceress. Perhaps she has offered them the use of her magic in return for using my cousins as bait to lure you." It was the only thing that she could think of. Eric pondered her words for a moment and then nodded in agreement.

"It is the only thing that makes sense. We will know soon enough, whether we wish to or not. The important thing now is that you promise me, when we arrive at Helvete Grind, that you will stay out of the fray. I will have Wallace guard you with his very existence and you must do as he says and keep yourself safe." She shook her head vehemently at his order.

"No! You will need Wallace with you. The Fairies will protect me. I do not want you going into this without him." At her words, Eric threw back his head, hitting it hard twice against the stone wall in his frustration.

"Gods, Sookie, do not argue with me!" He spoke through clenched teeth. "I will not be able to concentrate on handling that bitch if I am fearing for your safety, and the only Fairy I trust is the one sitting in my lap right now." With that, he took her face roughly in his hands and brought his mouth down hard on hers. His kiss was desperate, the strength of his despair caused his fangs to slam down, barely missing the delicate flesh of her lips, his tongue forcing entry into her mouth and roughly caressing every contour of it. When he finally released her so that she might breathe, his eyes were as wild as they had been those last few minutes in the King's chamber. "You are my life. If she were to hurt you or kill you…I cannot even conceive of how I would go on. And the moment she knows that you are there, that will be her greatest desire. You will stay with Wallace and keep yourself safe, or I will not take you: Halbjorn's orders be damned!" The last words were hissed out around his fangs and, if she had not seen the desolation in his eyes and his fierce, overwhelming need to keep her safe, she would have been frightened of him. Realizing that arguing with him would get her nowhere, she nodded her head, accepting his decision.

"Very well." She replied softly. Her acquiescence seemed to calm the worst of his anxiety, but she could already see his fear for her morphing into another emotion, and one that she was intimately acquainted with: want.

Taking her mouth in another fervent kiss, she felt one of his arms breaking free of their embrace and beginning to wander down her body. His hand stopped briefly to caress the swells of her breasts over the fabric of her gown and then journeyed onward, over the curve of her hips, down the length of her legs and to the hem of her dress, where it fisted momentarily in the soft fabric and then pulled quickly upward.

Without warning, his mouth left hers and he roughly rearranged her on his lap so that her back was to his chest and her legs, now exposed where the skirt of her dress no longer covered them, were hooked over his knees. The arm that had been holding her to him now banded around her, his hand coming to rest in the valley between her breasts, trapping her to his body as his legs spread wide, taking hers with them.

Sookie could not bite back the gasp that escaped her, first startled and then deeply aroused, when the cold air in their hidden corner caressed her suddenly exposed center only to be followed by the forceful touch of his equally cold fingers.

"You are mine." He growled in her ear, the hand between her thighs beginning to play through her folds. "Whether you be Sookie or Saoirse, servant or Queen, you are_ mine _and I forbid you to put yourself in danger. Everything that I am, everything that I was you took from me in those first moments when I opened my eyes on your beach. You stole my peace, you broke my control, and now I can find them only in your arms. By taking them you have made me as much yours as you are mine, and I will never allow you to leave me. Your life is precious and you will protect it, if for no other reason than that I command it."

His whispered words, so filled with dark passion, spurred her ever higher as he played his fingers over her sensitive flesh, thrumming at her nub and delving deep within her body over and over again, until he broke her own control. Nipping at the pounding pulse at her neck, the hand of the arm that still held her came up to cover her mouth and muffle her cries as he watched her begin to move against his fingers in a desperate attempt to reach her release.

"Bite me." She begged through his hand, barely still able to form words.

He knew that he shouldn't. In the centuries of his existence, he had never desired anything as badly as he desired to sink his fangs into her enticing flesh and his cock into her sweet, soft folds. But both he had denied himself to keep her safe and to protect their secret. In that moment, watching her ride his hand and cry out in his arms, knowing that they would soon be going into such danger, he longed to finally give in to his nearly unbearable craving for her. She was his: her body, her blood, her heart, her soul. They belonged to him as surely as his body, his blood, his heart and his soul belonged to her and, just this once, he wanted to feel again the unearthly delight of his fangs sliding into her velvet soft skin as she came apart under his touch. He wanted to taste the heaven flowing through her veins as she gave him the gift of her pleasure.

"Please, Eric." She begged again. His burning desire was quickly becoming an inescapable compulsion. The sight of her writhing on his lap, baring her neck, begging him to take what he so desperately wanted was robbing him of the ability to think, to reason, to pull back as he knew he must. With his last ounce of strength he pushed her from his lap, bolting from the bench deeper into the darkness of their hiding place, a strangled cry of angry frustration ripping from his throat.

Bracing her hands on the bench, half mindless from her aborted release and shocked at the sudden change in their positions, she watched him beating his hands against the wall, trying with all his might to find his sanity once more.

"We cannot go on like this much longer," he bit out through clenched teeth, "I…I want you, all of you, so badly. It's getting harder and harder to remember all the reasons why we cannot. One day, soon, I will not be able to stop." His words were barely above a whisper, his body trembling with the effort to regain his equilibrium. Rising from the bench and coming up behind him, careful not to touch him in his agitated state, she said the words that would release them both.

"He knows." Sookie saw his body stiffen as her words, whispered with her own barely restrained desire, reached him. "Eric, he knows everything. I do not know for how long, but he told me so tonight. He has given us his permission. He told me we could follow the desires of our hearts for as long as we were away."

At first he could not even be sure that he had heard her correctly, could not be sure that he had not dreamed she had spoken them, so eager was he to hear them. Turning slowly, attempting to keep himself steady in case he had simply imagined them, he looked at her, disbelief painting his face.

Closing the final inch that separated them, Sookie brought both her hands to his face and pulled Eric down to her, placing a gentle kiss, filled with joy, on his lips. When she pulled away she could see he still was not sure that what he had heard was true.

"Eric, Halbjorn knows. He is not angry: we can be together now. You do not need to stop!" It was as if a light lit him from inside this time. His whole body nearly collapsed with relief, nearly crumbled to pieces on the floor in front of her, with his happiness. When she was sure that he would take her in his arms and finish what they had started, give them both what they so badly craved, he only placed a small kiss on her forehead and swept her up into his arms, carrying her quickly the rest of the way to her chamber.

Laying her down on the bed, but not joining her, he loosened the ties that held her gown and gently removed it, sliding it from her body. Drinking in her naked form for just a moment he brought the heavy velvet blankets up to cover her. But when he pulled back she grabbed his hand, keeping him from leaving.

"I don't understand. I thought…" She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence, confused and suddenly frightened. She could clearly see the outline of his desire straining the bindings of his pants, the evidence of his physical need unmistakable, and yet he made no move to join her, to give them both the relief they so badly craved and had been nearly mindless for only minutes before. Did he not want her anymore? Had Halbjorn's permission somehow changed his feelings? Seeing her distress, Eric smiled gently and caressed her hair with his large hand.

"I want you more than anything Sookie, nothing will ever change that. But I will not take you, your blood or your innocence, hurriedly in a darkened corner. We have waited this long. If Halbjorn has truly given us his blessing then I can wait for both a little while more. I wish to love with you, for the first time, as you deserve. It cannot be so tonight, so close to dawn, with so many worries hanging over our heads. Will you wait with me, just a little longer, until it can be as it should?" Searching his face, Sookie took in the burning desire and deep love in eyes and it reassured her as nothing else could that Eric was still hers, would always be hers. She felt the tears stinging the corners of her eyes and could only nod her head to show him that she understood, that as much as her body wanted him _right now_, in her heart she truly desired the same thing.

"Sleep, my love, the dawn is nearly come and we shall both need our rest for what is ahead." Leaning over her slowly, he let his mouth softly caress hers once more, his hands cupping her face for a single instant, and then he was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Not too much to say about this chapter, just a huge thank you to everyone who's reviewed, alerted, and favorite. You all are the best and I love you!_

_But I did venture a toe into the world of True Blood fanfic today and posted a one-shot there called "The Choice", if any of you guys are interested in checking it out. I'm in Germany so I don't get to see eps until the night after they air (GRRR!) but frankly a whole week isn't enough anyway to erase the icky feeling I got when Sookie dreamed about Bill and Eric and told them she loved them both? (SERIOUSLY? How stupid can one girl prove she is?) So I gave her a different dream! _

_Okay I have only to say that I LOVE YOU- my beta, sheknitsnicely- for devoting your hard earned weekend to editing not just this chapter, but my one-shot too. You are the best, I love you, never leave me!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…._

Looking down into the courtyard from the window of her receiving chamber, Saoirse could already see the Human servants that would accompany them beginning to saddle the horses and make ready. In the waning winter sunlight she counted about sixty mounts at the ready and she was sure that Niall would provide at least that many Fairies as well. She still could not believe that she was to accompany the Vampires and Niall's Fairies on this journey. Part of her was terrified and she told herself that it was good sense that made her so. Unlike the many Fairy females who were trained from childhood to be cunning and skilled fighters, she had spent her entire life sheltered, first by her Human family and then by Niall. Though she'd grown up on stories of the war her people had been fighting for many generations by the time she was born, she had never before seen battle. Niall had always made sure that she was kept well away from that particular reality of his life.

The other part of her, that part that seemed to be coming out more and more of late - the part that had rescued a Vampire from the sun and stood every day at the prow of Halbjorn's boat to commune with the open water during her voyage, the part of her that was irrevocably drawn to Eric's darkness and reveled in his love, despite the danger they placed themselves in- was nearly buzzing with the thrill of anticipation. That part of her was exhilarated by the prospect of the adventure to come, of the many nights riding through the forests, of all the things that she would see and discover, and all of it with _him _by her side.

Saoirse felt herself practically bouncing from one foot to another with her barely concealed eagerness as the head groom of the Royal stables led the last two horses out to be saddled: one was her beautiful white Palfrey, the same one Halbjorn had gifted her with on the day of her arrival, who stood demurely and allowed the men to outfit her with little trouble, and the other a large black Charger whose tail and mane where intricately braided. The enormous warhorse was clearly in no mood to be handled and she watched as the head groom attempted to ready him with a mixture of exasperation for his obstinacy and wary respect for his size and obvious power. Saoirse could only smile as she watched the dance they did, knowing full well who that horse must belong to.

Turning from the window at the sound of Amena's exasperated sigh, she saw that her nurse was once again fussing over clothing. Amena had been angry and distressed by turns when she'd found out earlier in the day that her charge was to accompany the Vampires and Fairies to rescue Ceiridwyn and Caronwyn. She'd clucked loudly that Saoirse owed the sisters nothing, and that it served them right to pay for their years of cruelty to her at the end of a pair of thirsty fangs, until Saoirse had finally begged her not to say anything more. Now she seemed to be taking out her apprehension and worry on Saoirse's wardrobe. Apparently Amena expected her to be dressed as befit a Queen while she crouched in the dirt, trying to dodge arrows and stay out of the fray that was surely coming.

"We are going to storm a castle Amena, not dance at a ball." Saoirse snapped, finally at the end of her patience. Turning from the window she pointed to her two plainest, woolen dresses. "The brown one and the black one, that's all that will fit in the saddle bag anyway." Amena was just about to make a comment, no doubt a snippish one if the screeching coming from her mind was any indication, when the doors to her outer chamber were opened and Brynja walked through carrying the things that Saoirse had sent her to try and find.

"You're lucky. One of Halbjorn's pages is just about your size." She said, attempting a cheery smile that Saoirse could tell she did not genuinely feel, as she laid out the things she had brought.

"What on Earth are those?" Amena asked with obvious distaste.

"You did not expect me to go riding off into a fight wearing court gowns did you?" Saoirse asked, holding up the pair of soft brown leather pants, the green tunic and the brown riding boots she had hoped Brynja would bring back with her. "None of the female Vampires or the female Fairies Niall will no doubt have sent, will be wearing dresses. I do not intend to look like a fool, traipsing around the forest in winter wearing brightly colored silks. I will wear this, and if anything happens to it I will have the two dresses for back up." With finality, she nodded at Amena and Brynja and walked through to her bed chamber to change into her borrowed clothes.

When she was finished Brynja joined her and, helping Saoirse sit at the mirror, began to braid her hair tightly. As Saoirse searched through the small box on her vanity, which held ribbons and other trifles for her hair, looking for a simple leather cord to tie off her braid, she felt an almost imperceptible pull to the other object she kept on her vanity. Handing Brynja the leather cord, she opened the small ivory casket and pulled out the vial that Niall had given her so many months before.

Examining it again, as she had so many times over the last few months, she remembered Eric's words admonishing her to keep the tiny bit of magic close. She laughed as she thought of it. There couldn't possibly be any occasion where a love potion would be of less use to her than in the fight they were, no doubt, going into, and yet when she made to put the vial back in its intricately carved home, something stayed her hand.

"Saoirse…are you well?" Brynja asked, as she watched her friend stare intently at the small bottle.

The many times she had held the potion, Saoirse had found it a comforting reminder of her Grandfather and his love, but nothing more. This time it was different. It was almost as if the tiny bottle was compelling her to take notice of it and not to leave without it. Not understanding why she should feel so inclined but assuring herself that, however foolish her inclination might be, taking it would hardly be any burden, she stood up and placed the potion in the pocket of her pants.

"As much as I can be." She finally answered her friend, hoping to reassure her. Brynja nodded and seemed as though she would turn away, but then suddenly pulled Saoirse into her arms.

"I know Eric and Wallace will be with you, but be careful. You are my only friend. I cannot stand the thought of something happening to you!" Saoirse hugged her friend back with equal force.

"I will, I promise." She said, hoping that the conviction she felt was enough to bring about the desired result. The two women embraced once more and then, just as Saoirse was picking up her bag, the doors to her chamber opened once more and Eric entered.

With only Brynja and Amena there to see, they made no attempt at either deception or formality, despite practically feeling the waves of disapproval coming off of Amena. Instead Eric strode directly up to her, gave her attire one long, deeply pleased look of assessment and then bent to take her in his arms, holding her tightly with one hand on the back of her head and the other spread wide at her waist, clasping her to him.

"I have never seen riding pants and a tunic look that good." He said after a moment, releasing her with a leer, despite the gravity of the situation they were going into. She wanted to reproach him for being so cavalier but as she took him in, she could only think the same thing. He was dressed tonight exactly as he had been on the night he had presented her to Halbjorn: all black and leather, fiercely intimidating and utterly carnal all at once.

The only difference this time was his hair. That night, as it was most nights, his hair had been left to float around his face and fall freely down his back in silken waves. Tonight he wore these clothes for utility, not affectation, and his hair was done accordingly, pulled back and bound into a long, elaborate braid. The effect it had on his face was startling. Without the softness of his hair, his features appeared more angular, more masculine, his eyes more intense, the line of his jaw that much stronger. He was no less beautiful but seemed many, many times more menacing, and the impact it had on her body was as immediate as it was unexpected. Her heart began to pound, her breathing became erratic and the desire to forget everything else and simply drag him down on top of her was almost too overwhelming to ignore. Through the haze of her sudden lust she saw Eric's nostrils flare ever so slightly and then he laughed softly, the sound low and longing. Bending down to her ear and speaking quietly so only she could hear him, he whispered.

"Hold that thought until after the fight, lover!" Before her lust addled mind could even form a response, he straightened back up and addressed her in a clear, normal voice. "Are you ready?" His words and tone betrayed nothing and neither did his face, which had reset itself into neutral lines, but his eyes told an entirely different story. Despite his attempts to calm them both with seduction and humor, he was still unhappy about Halbjorn's decision to send her with them and deeply concerned about his ability to keep her safe.

"I am." Was all she said, before she looked back fleetingly at Amena and Brynja and then walked out of the room determinedly, knowing that he would follow behind.

When they reached the courtyard, Eric's men were already assembled and waiting with Wallace at their head, mounted on his own horse but holding tightly to the reigns of the headstrong Charger Saoirse had watched earlier.

"In all the years you've had this accursed beast, you still haven't managed to teach him any manners." The normally good natured Scot spat in a rather disgruntled tone as he handed the horse over to Eric. Jumping up into the saddle with ease, the horse suddenly becoming calm, Eric only laughed and patted its braided mane.

"Wallace, are your feelings_ still_ hurt that he chose to let me ride him and not you?" Eric laughed, giving his friend a feigned look of sympathy. "Skjolder is brave, loyal and smart and doesn't suffer fools - that's merely good taste, _not_ bad manners."

Wallace barely had time to 'hrumph' in response to Eric's chiding before Saoirse was helped up into her saddle and Eric held up his hand to signal that they were departing. The whole group came to attention within seconds and they rode through the gates of the castle with disciplined determination. When they reached the edge of the woods that encircled the city, they found the Fairies waiting for them, fifty in total; led by her grandfather's favored lieutenant, Rival.

"Vampire, we are sent by the Prince." Eric only nodded. After so many years of war they were not strangers to each other.

"Can you and your men teleport all of us?" Eric asked, hoping very much that the answer was yes.

"We can." Rival answered coolly.

"Good, then take us into the woods, about ten miles from Helvete Grind." Eric commanded. Rival flinched at being ordered about so easily by someone he still considered an enemy, but he was smart enough to understand that, as long as the Princesses were being held by the Vampire Queen, Halbjorn's Commander at Arms was Commander of this mission.

Nodding one last time, Rival called out to his men to make ready and then, for a single moment, everything around them was bright, blinding light. When the light faded, the woods surrounding them were denser, the air colder and, without the lights from the city behind them, all was darkness except for the pale silver light emanating from the moon.

Saoirse was not sure about the Vampires, but for herself she would need at least a few more moments to get her feet back from under her. Niall had taken her with him in this way several times during her life and, though it was a convenient and completely Fairy form of travel, she had never been able to get used to it. The motion caused a disorientation that made her stomach sick and her head dizzy. Stealing a quick glance at Eric and Wallace, she was gratified to see that it obviously was not only her that found it so. Recovering himself admirably, Eric ordered everyone to make camp.

An hour later, when everyone was settled, Rival and a female Fairy carrying a bow and wearing a quiver of arrows on her back, who Saoirse did not know, joined Eric, Wallace, and herself in Eric's tent. Before she could fully understand what was going on, Eric and Wallace both hissed menacingly and fell into a crouched position, ready to attack at any moment. The two Fairies responded in kind, but Rival had the sense to hold up both of his hands in a gesture of peace.

"My Lord, we mean you no harm, we swear!" Rival said in as even and calm a voice as he could muster. The tension in the tent hung for a moment more before Saoirse chose to speak, hoping that she could help the situation.

"My Lord, he is being truthful, they have no ill intent." At the sound of her voice Eric seemed to regain himself, but stayed poised to strike even as he spoke.

"Masker, leave your arrows outside the tent." Suddenly Saoirse understood. She had heard of Maskers before but had never met one. Looking at the tall Fairy female now, she was every inch the formidable fighter Saoirse would have expected: tall and lean with long chestnut hair pulled back into a single tight braid and emerald eyes that sparkled with barely restrained lethality.

In the history of her people Maskers had always been Fairies, like Niall, whose innate magic allowed them to disguise their scent. But when the war had called her people to fight, they had become something else entirely. Fairies who could mask their scent were highly prized, taken early from their families and specially trained to fight as archers. They hunted Vampires in small units and struck from a distance, taking their prey, who were entirely at a disadvantage without the ability to scent their attackers, completely by surprise and killing them with wooden arrows that worked so effectively as small aerial stakes.

Removing her quiver from her back and setting it outside the tent the Fairy female returned and bowed stiffly to the Vampires.

"I am Eirian. The Prince has sent me and three other Maskers with the party to disguise the scent of those that have come to help you, no more." Her voice was steady and harsh, but when Eric looked to Saoirse for confirmation she was happy that she could nod her head, confirming that the Fairy was truthful in her statement.

"Very well." Eric replied. After another moment, both Eric and Wallace straightened themselves as though nothing had happened and Eric and Rival got to the business of forming a plan.

"My King has charged me with two tasks", Eric began in a calmer voice, "and as your Prince has sent you to assist me, they are both your tasks as well. The first is to secure the freedom of the Princesses. The second is to dispose of Queen Freyda. You will not depart until both objectives have been met." Eric was pleased to see that, even though Rival again flinched at being so blatantly ordered about, the Fairy made no attempt to argue with him.

"What would you have us do?" Rival asked through tight lips.

"I have no intention of allowing Queen Freyda to slip through my fingers when the fighting begins, so I will take a small group of men to the castle tomorrow at first dark and ask an audience of her. I expect you to take as many Fairies as you deem necessary and teleport into the castle just before sunset. Secure the Princesses with as much stealth as possible and bring them back here. You will then wait until an hour after sunset and teleport all of the fighters, both Fairy and Vampire, into the castle. I will leave Wallace and several men here to guard her Majesty and the Princesses. You may leave several as well, but I need the bulk of your forces in the castle with me."

"And what do we do once there?" Rival asked, wanting there to be no mistake about what should happen so that it could not be used against his people afterward.

"Kill everyone and burn the place to the ground. I want the ruins to stand as reminder a to those who would challenge my King or his edicts. Once it is done you will be free to take the Princesses and leave. Am I understood?" Eric asked the last with an edge of authority that Saoirse had never heard before, but understood was an innate part of what made him such a formidable fighter and such a worthy leader. One would have to be insanely stupid or unutterably foolish to intentionally disobey him.

"Perfectly, my Lord." Rival said, bowing with the same chafing stiffness that he had used all night.

"Good. I will send my men to feed tonight in the nearby villages. I do not desire them to be hungry while working with a pack of Fairies. Go, make your men ready." With that, Eric turned away from the two Fairies, making it clear that their presence was no longer required. Once they had left, Eric turned to Wallace.

"Tell the men to go and feed and then to scout out resting places away from the camp. I want you to handpick the ten best fighters and tell them to be prepared to depart with me to the castle at sunset tomorrow night." It was clear that the joking and camaraderie that Eric and Wallace normally shared was something that they indulged in only in private. Here on this battlefield, as it must have been on all of the many battlefields before, Eric was the Commander and Wallace was his first and most faithful warrior.

Bowing with more sincere respect than Saoirse had ever seen the big Scot display, he turned and left the tent to carry out Eric's orders. When Wallace was gone, Eric took a seat at the table and stared intently at the plans of the castle that he had laid out earlier, his head propped up by one of his hands.

"Why are you going on ahead of the main force?" She asked, still standing in the corner where she had watched the whole meeting unfold. Without looking up from the plans, he made his answer in measured tones.

"I do not know the extent of Freyda's magic, but I am done underestimating her. When the fight breaks out I want her close at hand. She has much to pay for and I intend to make sure she does." The icy chill that filled his voice as he told her this was palpable, and Sookie felt it as a creeping tingle up her spine.

"How will you get her to let you in? Surely she will be expecting a fight." Raising his gaze to her for the first time, Sookie could see a clear look of distaste in his eyes.

"I will tell her that I have come as she bade me and that I will trade myself to her in exchange for the lives of the Princesses." The tingle up Sookie's spine suddenly became a sharp stabbing pain. Shaking her head, she looked at him with irate astonishment.

"NO!" She said after a moment, the shock giving way to an anger so intense that controlling it left her trembling before him. Rising abruptly from his chair, Eric began to pace the length of the tent in frustration.

"What are you afraid of Sookie?" He asked as he moved restlessly, a caged lion with too much pent up anxiety. "Do you think so little of me that you believe I would actually do this?" Stopping directly in front of her, he bent his neck low so that they were nearly face to face. "Answer me Sookie! After everything we have been through, after all that we have done to be together, do you still not trust me?"

"It has nothing to do with trust." Sookie spat out, infuriated that he was putting himself in such reckless danger so carelessly. "She has powerful magic and she is older than you. Once she has you, there is no telling what she will do! She has tricked you before." The words came falling out of Sookie's mouth faster than she could stop them. In truth, she had no idea what it was that she was more afraid of: that Freyda would harm him or that she would somehow, through use of magic or by other means, convince him to abandon their love and come to her. Both were scenarios that Sookie knew she would not be able to live through. His death or his betrayal: either would kill her.

The look of deep terror that painted her features was unmistakable and, even though she refused to look him directly in the eye anymore, it melted Eric's frustration away completely.

"Sookie, look at me!" He commanded her, his voice deep and strong. She did not want to, but when he spoke to her like that she felt compelled to do as he asked, almost as though he had glamoured her, though she knew he had not. Looking up at him now, she saw everything in his eyes: his love for her, his anger at Freyda's manipulation, his determination to exact revenge for what she had done to him and to them, and his determination to return to her. "I am yours. Nothing she does can change this. You are right, she did trick me once, and she accomplished it by using against me the one weakness that I have: you. She will not have that advantage this time. You will be here with Wallace and your cousins, safely guarded and away from the fight. I will be alone with her for no more than an hour, and when it is over she will be finally dead." She wanted to believe him. It would have been so easy to simply give in to the arrogant confidence he wore so easily, but she was far from convinced.

"Swear it to me Eric. Swear you will not let her hurt you or take you away from me!" His answer this time was wordless. Banding his arms around her, pulling her to the hardness of his chest, he kissed her long and hard, his fangs snicking down from the mere touch of her mouth on his. For long moments there was nothing in the world but the two of them, alone in his tent, melding into one being as the snow fell outside.

"I swear it to you." He finally whispered when his lips released hers, his desire for her, and only her, clear in the low timbre of his voice, in the strength with which he held her and in the bright heat that lit his eyes. "And when this is done and the Fairies have departed, you and I will celebrate our victory." Looking down at her smaller form, almost entirely engulfed by his own, he smiled playfully, arrogantly at her. "If I am victorious in this, will my Queen honor me with a just reward for my labors?" Sookie could only laugh at his seemingly endless confidence.

"And what would be a just reward for saving my kin and felling a Vampire sorceress? Shall I give you my favor to wear, perhaps a kiss?" She asked, her own voice becoming playful and coy. He bent to take her lips in another searing kiss before answering her.

"Those things I already have and, though I treasure them, I want something far greater from you." Sookie cocked her eyebrow, knowing already what he wanted, what they both so desperately wanted, but needing to hear him say it.

"And what would that be?" Bending down so that his lips were at her ear, he whispered his desire.

"You. I want all of you at last. I want the dream that haunts my rest, the waking desire that eats at me from the inside out. Will you finally reward my suffering? Will you give yourself to me?" The words made her knees weak and her heart pound, and she wanted to make him feel the same way. Bringing her hand to the back of his head, holding his face close to hers, she turned to whisper her reply, enjoying playing at this game with him, despite the fact that they had both already known what he would ask and how she would answer.

"Yes. While you are with her, remember that I am waiting and, when you return, having slain your enemies, your reward will be me- all of me- however you desire to have it." With that, she blew her soft, warm breath into his ear and lowered her head slightly, biting the side of his neck.

The groan that escaped him sounded very much like one of pain, but when he pulled her ever tighter against himself, caging her in his arms to keep her close and pressing his obvious arousal into her stomach, she knew that it was not pain that he felt but nearly uncontrollable desire.

"You have not fed tonight." She said, still holding him as fiercely as he held her. "You must. I want you to be strong and ready for whatever Freyda may do." Turning her neck she offered it to him but, despite his ever escalating need, he held off.

"When was the last time Halbjorn fed on you? As much as I desire this, I will not weaken you. I can easily hunt in the village near here." Sookie tried to tamp down the little bubble of jealousy she felt at his words. She knew that he meant only to be careful of her health, that despite his near overwhelming lust for her blood he was putting her first, and she loved him ever the more for it, but this time she would not have it. Not when they were finally free to have each other as they wanted.

Just as he had fought within himself all these months to control his natural desire to bite her and drink from her, to keep from giving in and betraying their secret, she had fought as well, a battle with her own possessiveness. Their secret had forced him to feed elsewhere and, though he had sworn he would never do anything else, though he had never given her cause to doubt him, the knowledge that he sought others, even if only to feed, had been a pain so great that it had often left her, when she was alone to think endlessly on it, trembling with tears.

Halbjorn's words had rendered each of their denials no longer necessary, and she would not let a petty concern such as her health stop her from giving to him, as she had wanted so desperately to all these long months, not before he went into battle, before she watched him ride away perhaps never to return. This night she wanted, needed, to be the one to give him the strength to fight, to come back to her. Holding him ever more tightly as he tried to put space between them, she spoke the words that would give her what she desired, what they both desired.

"Not for several days." She lied. She had fed Halbjorn the night before, when he had first risen, before Niall had arrived so unexpectedly, but she knew if she told Eric that he would refuse her. Before she could regret that she had once again been dishonest with him, she felt his face in the crook of her neck, his cool tongue enthusiastically bathing the pulse that pounded there, and all thoughts of her small lie were forgotten in the ecstasy of his bite.

Sookie could not help the deep moan of pleasure that escaped her as she felt his fangs slide into her skin, and when the sensation claimed her she realized that, though she had longed endlessly for his bite in the months they had secretly been lovers, her mind had not been capable of fully remembering the intensity of the feeling. The sharp sting was unlike anything else she had ever felt: it was both exquisite pain and unbearable pleasure all at once and, as the moment took her, she felt the world fall away.

The taste of her blood on his tongue was like nothing he had ever experienced before and he knew he would never find anything else like it again. She was unique, and it was not just the perfections of her blood that made her so: it was her spirit, her passion, her love and her kindness. It was the flame of her soul that burned so brightly and which she had given so completely only to him. He knew not what he had done in the years of his monstrous existence to deserve it, but he would fight the forces of hell themselves to keep her and, when this fighting was done, he would finally take his heart's desire. He would finally have her in every way. He would worship her by the banks of one of the streams that ran through the forest, laying down the pelts he had brought to keep her warm as the snow fell around them.

The thought of their future joining aroused him to such a fevered pitch that he felt himself lowering her to the ground, even as his fangs stayed nestled in her soft, heavenly skin and it was only the unexpected sound of her pulse slowing, that first warning sign that he was taking too much from her, that caused him to stop drinking. Alarmed, he pulled away, though a part of him wanted very much to simply ignore it and keep drawing on her slowing pulse.

When he looked at her, he saw that she was nearly limp in his arms, her eyes glassy and unfocused. Swearing softly, he picked her up and brought her to the pallet he had set for her in the tent. Once she was laid out, he covered her with a heavy velvet blanket and placed a thick wolf skin atop it.

"Sookie, you lied to me." He said, his voice soft but filled with worry. "Why?" She looked up at him, almost asleep from the blood loss.

"I love you. I did not want you going to her filled with the life of another. After all this time, I want it to be me that you take with you when you face her. You are mine. I wanted it to be me." With that, she smiled wanly at him and closed her eyes, falling into a deep and immediate sleep.

Leaning over her, placing his lips on her forehead, he kissed her softly one more time before rising and exiting the tent. There were two Werewolves standing at the guard. Turning, he pinned them with a withering glare.

"Her Majesty is sleeping. You are to guard her with your lives, or they will be forfeit to me. When she wakes you are to make sure that she eats well and has everything she needs for her comfort." The guards nodded their understanding emphatically. When he was satisfied that the dogs understood, Eric stole one last glance at the form of his sleeping love and made off into the woods, searching out a safe place, far away from the camp, to go to ground.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: Just a couple of super quick things before the chapter. First: they'll be a bonus chapter this week! This one ends on kind of a cliffy and I thought that it would be not cool to make everyone wait another 7 days to find out how everything works out, so I'll be posting chap 18 on Thursday this week! _

_The only other thing to say is that I decided to continue with my True Blood one-shot from last week, so if you all are interested chapter 2 is up! _

_Also I'm posting this today from a Starbucks in downtown Heidelberg, because the internet at my house is totally caput. So I will, as always, respond to any messages, cause I love you guys like mad and I want to tell you just how much, but it might take me a couple of days. First I have to make offerings of money and small animals to the household internet gods!_

_Okay so other than that, thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, alerted and favorited this story! I'm beyond grateful! And thanks as always to my beta- sheknitsnicely. Honestly the list of reasons why I love you so much is way to long for this author's note!_

_Disclamier: I own nothing!..._

The first sense to return to his body was touch, and it allowed him to feel the dampness of the earth he had taken shelter in. It surrounded and pervaded him, making his already cold body feel wet and slimy. Slowly opening his eyes, Eric took in the dirt that surrounded him and the tiny creatures that crawled around his body.

Sensing, through scent and hearing, that he was quite alone save for the animals that stalked the forests at night, he pulled himself out of his earthen resting place, one hand still clutching the small parcel that held his clothes, tightly wrapped so they would not be stained by the dirt and muck.

He had gone to ground about a mile from the camp, by the banks of a large stream, which he now used to wash himself quickly of the soil that had seemingly gotten into every crevice of his body. He had grown, over the last decades, to find sleeping in the ground distasteful and, though he still did it when on campaign, he enjoyed much more the comfort of his chamber at Upsala. He chuckled to think that perhaps so many years as Lord Commander had actually made him softer instead of harder. His first hundred and fifty years as a Vampire, his maker had never allowed either of them to rest in anything but the safety of the earth. There had been many nights, he still remembered, when even being able to bathe the grime from his skin was a luxury he had been denied.

Shaking the water from his body, Eric dressed quickly and returned to the encampment to find the Vampires that were to accompany him to Helvete Grind already mounted and waiting. At their head stood Wallace with Sookie beside him. As he got closer, he felt his eyebrows going high into his hair with amazement when he saw that it was not Wallace but Sookie holding Skjolder's reigns. His great, ill-tempered warhorse was standing still and tame for her, behaving just as sweet as pie as she petted his muzzle and whispered gently to him.

"Eric." Wallace called as he closed the last bit of distance between them.

"Have the Fairies gone?" Eric asked. Wallace nodded brusquely.

"Aye, they left an hour before sunset. Rival took thirty of his men with him. We expect them back soon."

"Good. When they return, wait one hour and then have the Fairies transport everyone within the walls. Majesty," Eric turned to Sookie, his voice becoming softer as he took Skjolder's reigns from her, his hand intentionally brushing against hers, "when your cousins arrive they will be under your care. I am leaving Wallace to guard you all. He will see to anything they might need." Sookie nodded, attempting to keep her demeanor neutral, to keep herself from giving away her concern for what Eric was about to do.

"I understand, my Lord." Eric nodded and then climbed up easily into his saddle. Bending down so that his face was closer to hers, he stared deeply into her eyes, willing her to look at him and know that he understood her fears.

"Are you well? I worried for you. You should not have done that!" He whispered, wishing that they could have even a moment alone so that he could make sure she was better, so that he could see for himself that he had not hurt her and so that he could kiss her one last time before he rode out. But this would have to do.

"I am. Have no fear of that." Her voice was soft and the gentle caress of her breath, leaving her plump pink lips in little frosty puffs to settle against his face, was almost enough to make up for the embrace they could not share.

"Do not be frightened for me. All will be well and I will return shortly." Sookie could only nod her head, but the smile he gave her, genuine and loving, along with the confidence in his eyes and voice, helped her somewhat to keep her control. With no more time to lose, Eric straightened in his saddle and gave the signal to his men to depart. As she watched him go, Sookie felt that control beginning to leave her, and it was only the firm weight of Wallace's hand on her shoulder that kept the tears that welled up in her eyes from slipping past the barrier of her lashes.

"Do not fret, Majesty. He has not made it this far by being stupid or foolish. His confidence is well earned. He will return." Sookie looked up at the brawny Vampire and could only smile at his concern for both her and Eric. Putting her hand on his, she squeezed it gently.

"Thank you Wallace. I know you are right." With that, she turned and went into the tent to prepare for her cousins, leaving Wallace to make sure that the other men would be ready to depart when the Fairies returned.

.oO~*~Oo.

The ride to Helvete Grind was short and, when they arrived, they found Freyda's stronghold much as it had always been: beautiful, cold and ringed in mystery, just like its mistress. The fortress itself was a set of three towers connected by a single wall of battlements, set on a large island in the center of a shallow, mist covered lake. In the moonlight the mist took on an eerie blue glow and, now that Eric knew what Freyda was, he wondered that he had never before sensed the clear presence of dark magic that pervaded the place.

For all of his confident words to Sookie, the truth was that he _was_ scared of what might happen here and he hated the feeling of fear more than any other. Freyda was older than he by almost two centuries and, if her tricks at Upsala where any indication, she was also a powerful sorceress. That she had set her sights on him and gone to these lengths to get him here, was a clear indication that she was not to be underestimated. He had no doubt that he had not seen the half of what she was capable of. It made him rue his youthful stupidity in thinking he could toy with this woman, fuck her and then walk away. It was a mistake he would never make with any woman again, but one he that hoped he, and by extension Sookie, would not pay too dearly for before the night was done.

Eric and his men dismounted and loaded themselves and their horses onto the flat rafts that lined the shore to make the short water journey to the castle gate. When they were within feet of the gates, they heard the voice of the gatekeeper calling to them.

"Who are you and what is your business here?" Freyda's Gatekeeper called down to them.

"I am Eric, Lord Commander to the High King. I have come to speak with your mistress, open the gate!" Eric called back, his voice loud and level, ringing with authority. He had no doubt in his mind that he would be let in, as it was doubtless Freyda's objective to get him here all along, the problem would come when he tried to get back out.

Without further delay, the gate was lifted and Eric and his men rowed on through, docking the rafts at the castle's landing and handing their horses over to the servants that appeared to care for them. Just as Eric turned Skjolder over to a groom, admonishing the horse to behave itself, at least for the time being, the door that led from the main keep into the courtyard opened and a weasely looking Human, thin and drawn with beady black eyes and stringy, long white hair that belied his unlined face, walked out, his eyes scanning the men and coming to rest on Eric. He had not moved more than a few steps when Eric recognized him as Gjurd, Freyda's Seneschal.

"My Lord," the oily little servant greeted him with a florid bow, "we are most honored by your unexpected visit. Her Majesty bids me bring you and your men to her directly." Eric only nodded, eyeing his men to make sure that they knew to stay close, and then followed Gjurd through the doors, into the castle and down the long stone corridor that led to Freyda's Great Hall.

The hall was dark, despite the many bodies that filled it, with the only light in the room coming from the two braziers that hung from the ceiling and the moonlight that filtered in from a large overhead window made of tinted blue glass. The effect was to leave the room almost entirely bathed in a glowing white-blue light that mimicked the mist on the water outside.

Eric walked, with his men behind him, up the long path created by the parting bodies of Freyda's Vampires, to the Queen's throne. As if she had expected him, Freyda was dressed in exquisite finery, her gown red velvet with panels of wine colored silk cut into the skirt and the sleeves. The bodice of her dress was set low and the tops of the Queen's small but perfectly shaped breasts peeked out enticingly. Her long, pale hair was done intricately, braided until half its length and the braids twisted into intricate knots. Where the braids ended, her hair was left to flow freely in loose curls over her shoulders. On her head was an intricate gold crown, encrusted with rubies and sapphires and a short veil of gossamer, in a shade that matched the wine color in her dress, floated around her head.

She was made up to resemble a seductive rose, a creature too enticing to be denied; yet as Eric looked at her, enticement was the farthest thing from his mind. She revolted him. Her clothes, designed to induce desire and render rational thought useless, only made him think of Sookie and how she needed no such affectations to enhance the beauty, both physical and spiritual, that shone from her. He had seen his lover in rags of little more than patched wool and gowns of the finest cloth, draped in jewels of such rarity that they would no doubt make the greedy, selfish creature before him weep with envy, and yet his beautiful little Fairy Queen was never more exquisite than when she was stripped of it all, naked and crying out beneath him. Unlike the woman before him, the only adornments that Sookie required to be utterly captivating were the fire behind her aster eyes and the blush of passion that covered her like a glowing aura when they lay together. He would never willingly choose the harridan before him over the angel that waited only a few miles away: of this he was perfectly sure.

He was confident in his ability to pretend otherwise though and he would bet, as he saw Freyda looking him over with an appraising gaze of her own, that he would not need to try too hard. Freyda's self-confidence would hopefully play in his favor.

"My Lord Eric. I must admit I am astonished to see you here! To what honor do I owe the great pleasure of your unexpected company?" Freyda questioned, beginning the dance of words that he hoped would end in his favor. He needed to get her alone in order to ensure that, when the fighting broke out, she did not escape.

"Majesty, I am sure that you are well aware of the reason for my unexpected company. You are holding two Fairy females, granddaughters to the Fairy Prince Niall and cousins to her Majesty the High Queen. Halbjorn has sent me to secure their release." He said, his face remaining neutral even as he allowed his eyes to rake over her form once more, hoping that she would take it as a surreptitious sign of his interest. Freyda only laughed.

"So Halbjorn does the bidding of Fairies now?" She questioned, her amusement plain as she continued chuckling in the cold way that he hated. Eric allowed himself to give her an equally cold smile in return.

"Nay, my Lady, but his Majesty made peace with the Fairies, as well you know, and what you have done is a direct violation of his command." Freyda's frigid smile never faltered.

"And how do you expect to get them back with only the men you've brought with you? Surely Halbjorn did not expect that my entire army could be subdued by ten Vampires?" She questioned, laughing once more as she gestured to Eric and his men.

"No he did not. The choice of men and number were mine, Highness. I hoped that no fighting would need to be done. I have come to you with what I hope will be a much more pleasing solution to our current predicament." Eric answered her, stepping closer, so that one of his feet rested on the first step of her dais, his leg bending at the knee as he leaned in to her and his eyes taking on a conspiratorial glow. At this gesture Freyda too leaned forward, giving him a better view of her partially uncovered breasts.

"And what would that be?" She asked, her voice dropping lower as she caught the scent of him in the air. Eric could smell her too now and was inwardly relieved to scent her arousal, hoping that her eagerness would only make things easier.

"I have come as you bid me, Freyda. Release the Princesses and I will consent to remain here with you and be yours." Her initial reaction was nothing more than a skeptical raising of her eyebrow. But after a moment the Queen seemed to collect herself and rose from her throne, looking around at those that filled the Hall. Holding out her hand to Eric, she turned her eyes, suddenly heated and suspicious, on him.

"Come." She commanded him. "We have much to discuss and it is not for the ears of the over eager in the room." Eric straightened and followed the lesser Queen as she stepped down from the dais and opened a small door that was all but hidden by the hangings surrounding her throne.

The room they entered was circular, a part of one of the towers that made up the castle. In it Eric saw only a bed hung with red velvet and lined with luxuriant furs, and two chairs before a large fireplace with a small table between them. The window in the room was little more than a slit in the stone and the only light that pervaded the room came from the fire that burned in the grate. Closing and locking the door behind them, Freyda turned to him as he chose to stand in the middle of the room.

"My beautiful warrior, you cannot think that I am so naïve as to believe that you would suddenly change your mind and desire to be mine after all this time. I hunger for that to be so more than I have hungered for anything in centuries, but I am not a fool. Why are you really here?" She asked, her hands still on the knob of the door, blocking his path to it. Eric felt a moment's admiration for her. Greedy she might be, driven and perhaps even unbalanced, but a fool… no. Drawing in an unnecessary breath, he looked at her, hoping that she would see desire in his eyes.

"My King wishes it." Eric lied, hoping that a slight change in tactic would be more convincing. "He has no choice but to rectify the situation you have created, but he does not wish to make discord between you and he over something as trifling as the lives of two worthless and spoiled Fairies. You have been his most loyal servant and trusted ally throughout the war. He knows you have desired me and he has ordered me to come to you in exchange for the Princesses. The war is over, he no longer has need of a standing commander. This is how he bids me be useful to him now." Freyda's eyes seemed to light up as she considered his words, weighing their plausibility.

"And what of your own desires Eric? Do you come to me merely as a faithful servant of your King, or have you finally realized that we belong together? What of your own little Fairy?" This time, when Freyda questioned him, her voice dropped, becoming breathy as she looked over him once more, assessing him and allowing herself to begin to taste the victory she had plotted to obtain for so long. Eric pressed his advantage, stepping closer to her, though not touching her, letting his form tower over hers.

"My little Fairy is not mine. She toys with me mercilessly and then makes me watch as she gives herself to Halbjorn without even a moment's shame. She laughs at my pain and reviles me in front of others, flaunting her position in Halbjorn's bed to torture me. I'm finished groaning and pleading for her favors. I have come here at the bidding of my King, but with motive of my own." Freyda looked up at the man before her, so strong and powerful, the lights of desire and hate burning in his crystalline blue eyes, and mistook the look to be hatred for the Fairy Queen who had ensnared and then supposedly denied him.

"More demands? What is it _you_ come looking for Eric?" Her voice was amused, but as he moved yet another step closer to hers, his scent invading her nostrils, his body looming dangerously over hers, she knew that she would give him anything, anything he wanted to feel the pleasure that she had only felt twice before in four hundred years: the pleasure he brought her when she was beneath him.

"Make me your King. Make me King and I will stay with you willingly and give you whatever you desire of me!" The smile that broke over Freyda's face was terrifying in its triumph and he knew that he had convinced her.

The elegant Queen's hands reached out for him, running from his shoulders to the juncture of his pants and back again as she leered up at him. Eric tried not to flinch from her touch and instead concentrated on the fact that he knew he had just won. Her guard was down and his men and the Fairies would no doubt be here momentarily.

"Very well, my King." She answered him huskily. Pushing him back, she began to lead him to the bed, when the first signs that his men had arrived were heard. There was a commotion out in the hall and Freyda stopped midway through loosening the straps of her gown to listen. Eric wasted no time, drawing his sliver tipped dagger and rushing at her, but at the last minute she seemed to put it all together and turned on him, fangs bared, hatred in her eyes.

"You tricked me!" She roared at him. Eric said nothing, only advanced on her, though more slowly this time. He expected her to rush him, or attempt to dart away with her superior speed, but she did neither. Instead she allowed him to advance, her fangs still bared, but her only movement the disappointed shaking of her head. "I didn't want it to be this way, Eric." She whispered, sounding almost heartbroken. "I would have given you whatever you wanted: my body, my soul, my kingdom, if only you'd come to me willingly. But now I see there is only one way." Her words were cryptic and he made the mistake of looking into her eyes as he continued to advance on her, never knowing that this single act already rendered his attempt at attack futile.

Smiling at him, her expression devoid of any emotion, she reached out and took his mind. She felt her beautiful warrior struggling, stunned and truly terrified for the first time as he realized what it was that she was doing, and that his fighting of her influence, no matter how impressive for one so young, was doomed to failure.

Freyda wasted no more time playing with him, but tightened her grip on his mind until he fell to his knees before her, his mind in agony as it lost its struggle to resist her. A moment later the battle was over and Eric's being was swallowed in a haze of confusion and helplessness. Walking over to his kneeling form, Freyda reached out her hand and caressed his lovely face with indescribable tenderness.

"There, there, my valiant warrior. No more of that, and I will not be forced to harm you further. I have no wish to harm you. I love you. I love you as I have never loved another, and now you will love me too. Listen to me well Eric. You are mine!" Freyda's words were low and hypnotic and Eric repeated them in a sing-songy voice that betrayed his complete lack of control.

"I am yours." His words pleased her to no end and she continued, wiping him of his own will and replacing it with her own.

"Yes, pet, you are, and you will love no one but me, remember no other woman but me. You desire only to stay with me and be my King. Now stand, my magnificent King, go out into the Hall and tell your men to stand down." Eric tried to fight again, tried to break her hold over him, but it was useless and, one by one, he felt the most precious parts of him crippling before her will. His ability to fight, his ability to resist Freyda, it all vanished. He tried so hard to hold on to his love for Sookie and the bright, beautiful vibrancy of his memories of her, but they slipped away faster than he could grasp them, and when Freyda released him from her hold there was nothing of them left.

Looking up at his Queen and his Love, his mind feeling as though it had just been released from cotton, he smiled at her lecherously and his fangs, already down, began to ache for her. She was so beautiful. The gown that she wore, that seemed poised to slip from her delectable body at any moment, made him feel almost mad with desire for her. He would have her shortly! First he would stop the fighting outside and then he would return to this room and take her, as he knew they both desired.

As he walked almost dreamily from the room, Freyda remaining and smiling with triumph behind him, he called the fighting to a halt, commanding his astonished men and the Fairies who fought with them to stand down on pain of final death. He could not remember why there had been fighting to begin with, though he felt sure that he should, but it mattered little now. When it was done he turned back to his beautiful enchantress and began to plan in his head all the ways that he would ravish her, defile her, violate her. She was too beautiful, there in front of him, to remain standing or clothed.

Locking the door behind him once more, leaving his men astonished, Eric closed the distance between them, taking Freyda roughly by the shoulders and slanting his mouth down hard over hers, the feeling of their fangs scraping against one another's causing them both to groan. As he stared at her body before him, heaving with unnecessary gasps, he felt a twinge of something he could not quite place, a feeling of foreboding that caused him to pause momentarily, admonishing him to stop before he did something heinous, something he would regret, but the thought was fleeting and it seemed to leave him before he could truly hold on to it or examine it.

Instead he turned to Freyda and allowed her to run her hands up and down his body, feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure when she reached the straining bulge in his pants and began to sweetly stroke him over the leather. The pleasure was so great in that moment that the world seemed to fade away and all the concern he had felt a moment before faded with it.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Well, here we are at Freyda's final moments. This chapter was incredibly troublesome to write because we're actually going to see the same small time frame – from about the time when Eric rides out to Helvete Grind to the moment he's glamoured- from two more perspectives in the beginning of this chapter before everyone meets up in the same place and time sort of resumes going forward. I hope that makes sense. _

_Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed, alerted, and favorited this story- y'all knock my socks off! And thank you so much to my beta, Sheknitsnicely- I promise to give your inbox a break now!_

_One last thing, I have to shout out one of my reviewers: SVMReaderCH. You always leave me the most wonderful reviews but I can't send you a PM back, so I wanted to just say a big ol thank you to you before this chapter, cause you're kind words always lift my spirits and make me smile! Thank you!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…_

Ceannaideach watched, well hidden in the shadows that engulfed the Queen's throne room, as the crowd of Freyda's Vampires parted, making way for Halbjorn's Lord Commander and his men as they walked to the dais. Astonishingly, there were only ten Vampires with him. It made no sense and raised Ceannaideach's suspicions immediately.

As Freyda and Eric began to talk, he became more and more convinced that something was amiss. Freyda simpered and preened on her throne, clearly more intent on teasing the Commander with ever more daring glimpses of her barely covered breasts than on trying to puzzle out why he should be here with so few men, when he claimed to have come on the High King's command for the Princesses. In truth, he cared not what happened to Freyda as long as she fulfilled her end of their bargain, which up until now she had not.

Ceannaideach had been here already for several days and nights, having delivered Ceiridwyn and Caronwyn to her as Breandan had instructed him, but still awaited the magic potion that Freyda had promised in return for the women. He had no idea how Breandan had come to have dealings with the Vampire Queen and sorceress, but Breandan had assured him that the Queen could give them the necessary elements to finally defeat Niall. It was all the explanation that Ceannaideach had needed to agree to this scheme.

With Caronwyn, Coleman, Ceiridwyn and the accursed baby Ceiridwyn carried in her body out of the way, only Niall and Lidan stood between Breandan, Ceannaideach and the throne. Lidan was no threat and Ceannaideach had full confidence in his ally and lover's ability to rid them of their weak and feeble minded King without problem, but Niall was a different story. For all he had been faithful to his addled brained King these many years, his grandfather was still a formidable warrior and a strong and beloved Prince and, though it would have given him far greater peace of mind to have simply killed his sisters outright, as he had done Coleman, he knew that, when it came to Niall, they would need any extra help they could find to tip the scales in their favor.

Now as he watched Freyda, already tasting her own triumph as Eric seemingly capitulated to her long held desire and agreed to remain with her, he felt sure something was about to happen. It had been Freyda herself, in one of her demented rantings over Eric's continued resistance, who had informed him that the Queen's coveted North man had set his sights on the little half-breed fairy, his own cousin, Saoirse. It seemed that, no matter where she went, his cousin brought him nothing but grief. He had thought his scheme to get rid of her by marrying her off to Halbjorn both brilliant and fool proof. She was not Fairy enough herself to pose any real threat to his ascension to the throne and, as long as she did not mate with a full Fairy and produce a mostly Fairy child, she would remain that way.

Marrying her to Halbjorn eliminated the possibility of Niall ever making a Fairy match for her and removed her from the sight of the people, ensuring that she would be forgotten. But if it was true that she had carried on with one of the King's men and it were ever discovered, Halbjorn might put her aside, making her a threat once more.

Freyda led Eric from the hall and Ceannaideach decided that he would not wait any longer to see if his suspicions were proven correct. If what Freyda had told him about her last encounter with Eric was in any way accurate, he had no doubt Eric had simply come in advance of a far greater force to be close enough, when the fighting broke out, to land the killing blow. It's what Ceannaideach would have done and, though he had no love for any Vampire, he had met this one on the field enough times to have, long ago, learned to respect Eric's flair for strategy. If any woman had tricked _him_ thusly, he was not sure he would have had the patience to wait as long as Eric had. Still, he had no doubt that Freyda could handle herself. What concerned him more was that Ceiridwyn might be set free. In moments like these, every second was precious and so Ceannaideach chose to teleport himself to the tower where his sister was being held to make sure she was still securely imprisoned.

When he rematerialized in the room, he felt the rage bubbling up within him. The flakes that had been Caronwyn were still littering the cold stone floor, but Ceiridwyn was nowhere to be found. Cursing loudly, he made his way down the halls, already hearing the sounds of a commotion in the courtyard far below. As he advanced through the halls, he found a group of Fairies he assumed were part of the rescue effort. He followed them at a distance until they broke off by ones and twos. Picking one of the women who went off on her own, he pulled his knife, tipped in iron, and rushed her.

The element of surprise, along with his superior strength and fighting prowess, guaranteed that the fight was over within seconds. When his iron blade was at her throat, he whispered in her ear threateningly.

"Where is my sister?" Pushing the blade ever so slightly into the Fairy female's neck, he waited for her answer. It came swiftly. The prospect of death was always such a wonderful motivator.

"She is encamped with the Vampire Lord Commander's men ten miles north of here." He looked down at the woman he held captive. She was young and pretty, he did not want to have to kill her: there were far too few Fairies as it was and after tonight there would be fewer still. Yet, she would know where he was going: it was unfortunate, but a price that had to be paid. Driving the knife into the girl's throat, he pulled upward, slitting her from ear to ear and then dropped the body as it began to disintegrate. He was familiar with the forests surrounding Helvete Grind and so wasted no time, moving in a flash of light and rematerializing just a few hundred yards from the outer perimeter of the camp.

Climbing into one of the more thickly branched trees, Ceannaideach assessed the camp. He assumed that Ceiridwyn was being cared for in the large tent centered in the middle, which could only belong to the Lord Commander, as it was the only place suitable for one of her station. There were roughly four hundred paces between him and the tent. Surveying the men there, he realized that luck was indeed with him. They had left only a skeleton force here, perhaps no more than fifteen fighters, both Fairy and Vampire, and two Were guards standing century at the flap of the tent; the rest must have gone to the castle.

As he shimmied down from the tree, he saw the burly red-haired Vampire, Halbjorn's lieutenant, leave the command tent and he knew he had no more time to waste. Pulling his cloak tight over his face, laughing softly to himself at how easy it was all going to be, Ceannaideach engulfed himself in light once more.

.0O~*~Oo.

Inside the command tent, Sookie knew there was nothing to do but wait. She had never had any love for her Fairy cousins, but now she felt herself impatient for their arrival, if for no other reason than they would give her something to do besides worry.

Wallace's words of comfort had been as truthful as they were meant to be calming. Eric was a great warrior and a master strategist; he had survived many campaigns, brought many victories to Halbjorn's banner, most of them before she had even been born, and yet she could not quell her anxiety.

The fear of losing him, whether to Freyda's tricks or to his final death, was almost a physical pain. Looking back now, she wondered how she had ever had the strength to give him up so long ago, in Ireland, when Niall had first told her that she would marry Halbjorn. She remembered quite clearly the way her heart had broken to do it, and yet she had. She had walked away from him that last dawn on the beach, believing that they would never see each other again and accepting, no matter how greatly it had hurt, that it was the end for them.

Perhaps it had been so easy then because she'd known there was a wealth of lies lying between them. Perhaps it had been so easy then because she didn't really know him. Perhaps it had been so easy because she had never really believed then that it would last, no matter how much she had wished it would.

Those barriers between them, the ones that she had erected herself without really meaning to, that she had put up to keep herself safe, no longer existed. When she'd welcomed Eric back into her heart that night in her chamber, after her marriage, she had welcomed all of him and had given all of herself to him in return, and in doing so she had given herself irrevocably to the love between them, falling further and deeper than she had ever imagined possible, so deeply that the possibility of being without him no longer existed. And every night of the last six months he had proved to her how utterly he returned her love and how completely he had surrendered to and been engulfed by those same feelings.

It was only when she felt the fat drops hit her hand that she realized she had begun to cry. She wished in that moment that there were any deity she could pray to for help. But she had not been raised a Human: there was no God or gods to whom she could direct her plea for the safety of her beloved, or beg for the strength to bear what might happen. She had only the confidence of Wallace, her lover's constant companion and stalwart comrade for so many decades, to turn to, but waiting alone in the empty tent it simply was not enough. The sounds of commotion outside finally forced Sookie to dash the remaining tears from her eyes and pull back the tent flaps.

Rival and his men had returned and she watched now, a look of horror painting her face, as he walked slowly to the tent with the seemingly unconscious form of Ceiridwyn cradled in his arms. Sookie moved to the side quickly as he entered and pointed to the pallet where she had lain the night before, instructing him to set her cousin down there.

"Where is Caronwyn?" she asked, taking in the sight of her one cousin even as she puzzled over the whereabouts of the other. Rival's back was to her as he crouched on the ground and covered his Princess with the soft furs that littered the small bed, but Sookie could still hear the sound of his pained grimace.

"Dead. We found the last of her ashes in the same cell with Princess Ceiridwyn." With that Rival stood, bowing low to her, and left the tent to prepare his full force to return to the castle for the main assault.

Sookie didn't know how she should feel right now. That there was no love between herself and Caronwyn would never change and yet she would never have wished the death she could only imagine her cousin had suffered, on even the vilest of enemies.

Turning now to Ceiridwyn, knowing that whatever mixed emotions she felt over Caronwyn's death would have to wait, she examined her remaining cousin. Ceiridwyn was alive, of that much she was sure. Lightly touching her cousin's now matted dark hair, she began to sweep it out of the way, examining the bruises that littered her face. The motion brought Ceiridwyn out of the sleep she seemed to be in.

"Saoirse?" She asked, her voice rough and disbelieving. Sookie only nodded.

"You're safe, Ceiridwyn. Rival and the others have brought you here for me to tend. When the Vampires return, Rival will take you with him back to Niall." Ceiridwyn only nodded, turning slightly into Sookie's hand as though desperate for any gentle caress. "What have they done to you?" Sookie asked, unable to stop herself. Tears began to form in Ceiridwyn's eyes as she no doubt remembered everything that had happened to her since her own brother had killed her husband and taken her prisoner.

"Oh Saoirse…it was…horrible." The tale fell from her tear stained lips in soft sobs. They had been brought directly to Helvete Grind, Ceannaideach never even telling her why he had done what he had done or what was to become of them. When they had arrived they'd been taken to their tower prison and left there until nightfall, when Ceannaideach had returned with Queen Freyda.

"She is an evil beyond anything I have ever seen, Saoirse. They took Caronwyn almost immediately and only brought her back just before dawn. They took their time, draining her over the course of two nights, until they brought nothing back but her crumbling body the last night. But me… me they wanted to keep. Freyda kept rambling that…" she stopped then, placing a protective hand over her swollen stomach and shuddering at the memory she had to give voice to, "…that… they would wait until I gave birth so that she could offer the baby to her lover, who would be coming soon to join her, as a wedding present." The shudder than ran through Sookie now was one of both fear and revulsion.

"Did she say who this lover was?" Ceiridwyn's first response was one of puzzlement.

"What does it matter? They're monsters! Who cares which one they wanted to feed my precious babe to!" She cried, more tears streaming down her face.

"It matters a great deal to me, Ceiridwyn. Please, tell me if you know." Sookie tried to keep the pleading tone from her voice, but she knew when she saw Ceiridwyn's reaction that she had failed. Frowning, her cousin answered, the hatred for all Vampires burning in her words.

"The Northman, Eric, Halbjorn's Lord Commander, that horrid, murdering bastard. Freyda is obsessed with him. I was not often in her presence but when I was, she talked of nothing but him. How he had refused her, how, when he came, she would force him to see reason, and when he did they would…eat my little one… feast on his blood together." Ceiridwyn gave herself over then to her weeping, her fear mixing with her relief at being freed and creating a storm of tears that left her wailing with sorrow. "Oh Saoirse, please, please promise me that you will not let them take me again! I am sorry, so sorry, for every bad thing I have ever done to you. I swear to you I will make amends, only do not let them take me again!" Her cousin begged through her tears. Taking Ceiridwyn's hand and stroking her hair once more, Sookie made gentle shushing noises.

"I promise you are safe Ceiridwyn. The Vampires here with us are under the direct order of King Halbjorn. They are here to protect you and they will make sure that you are sent home, you and your baby, safely. I swear it." Her reassurance seemed to do as much for Ceiridwyn as was possible and her cousin began to quiet, giving herself over to the exhaustion that must no doubt have been crippling her, and falling off into a deep sleep. As Saoirse continued to stroke Ceiridwyn's hair and croon softly to her, Wallace pulled back the flap of the tent.

"How does she fare?" He asked, a look somewhere near compassion painting his large face, as he looked on the battered form of Sookie's pregnant cousin.

"She's badly shaken, which is not surprising, but otherwise seems mostly unharmed. She should sleep for now, but would you fetch some water for her, for when she wakes?" Wallace nodded solemnly.

"Aye, I've just done a sweep of the perimeter and all seems quiet. I'll go myself and be back shortly." With that he turned and walked out, leaving Sookie alone once more.

When Sookie was sure that Ceiridwyn would stay asleep, she rose and began to pace the tent. All of her instincts were telling her to go to Eric. He was not safe with that woman and so few of his men. Freyda would hurt him, take him from her. Sookie had nearly brought herself to the brink of hysteria when suddenly a Fairy, wearing one of Niall's blue cloaks, the hood pulled tight over his face, materialized inside the tent, less than a foot away from her.

"What do you want? The Princess is sleeping. Leave us." She questioned, her voice soft as she filled with a sudden sense of foreboding. The Fairy ignored her command completely, standing stock still instead and pulling back his hood and to reveal himself. "Ceannaideach!" She gasped. Not waiting for him to get any closer she began to scream, hoping desperately that Wallace was not far.

Ceannaideach took in the occupants of the tent and seemed to make a decision. Lunging for Saoirse and grabbing her around the shoulders, he took her down to the ground with him. She had only enough time to see her two werewolf guards pull back the flap of the tent, their weapons drawn and the figure of Wallace, flanked by two other Vampires, rushing back through the camp trying desperately to reach her, his eyes filled with rage, before she felt the burst of light consume her and her stomach dropped into her feet.

When the light faded, Sookie found herself on a stone floor, the heavy weight of Ceannaideach still on top of her, pinning her. Before she could even orient herself, he was dragging her up and holding her against him, a knife appearing in his hand and being dragged to the pulse in her neck.

"A single word and it will be your last. Do you understand?" He snarled at her, digging the tip of the knife into the vulnerable flesh below her ear. Knowing, at least for now, that she had no choice, she nodded her head carefully.

As they walked through the halls, she noticed that the whole castle seemed to be under a hushed sort of tension. The halls were empty and there were no sounds of people bustling about. Ceannaideach led her down long corridors, devoid of life, until they reached two large double doors.

When they swung open she saw that he must have brought her to Freyda's Great Hall. The room was mostly muted in shadows but she saw clearly, in the center, Rival and his Fairies along with Halbjorn's Vampires surrounded by Freyda's men, their swords drawn against them. The only person she did not see was Eric. As they passed, Rival caught her eye. His look was one of wary bewilderment, and she knew immediately that they had not lost the fight, but rather that something else had happened. Ceannaideach stopped not far away, at a door hidden by the curtains of Freyda's dais, and knocked loudly.

"Freyda, open the door, I have brought you a present." He laughed, his voice sending chills down Sookie's spine. There was the sound of rustling from within and then the Vampire Queen opened the door, her hair mussed, the laces of her dress nearly completely untied. The look of annoyance that had painted her face when the door had swung open was immediately replaced by a blood curdling smile.

"Why, Ceannaideach, whatever have you found?" She asked, her tone clearly betraying pleasure.

"I went in search of my sister, but stumbled upon this instead. I thought, all things being equal, that you'd like to have this much more." The two shared a malevolent chuckle that seemed oddly inappropriate given the circumstances in the hall and then the Queen stepped back, allowing Ceannaideach to drag her into the dimly lit little room.

Inside, Sookie was greeted by a sight that pierced her to her very heart, though in a way she had known it was coming. Reclining back upon the bed that seemed to dominate the room was Eric, his tunic rumpled, his pants almost unlaced, and a look of vacant glassiness painting his face.

When their gazes met, she heard more than felt the deep cry of pain that left her mouth. There was no recognition there, no sign whatsoever that he even knew who she was. He neither spoke to her nor attempted to raise himself from his sprawl on the bed. Instead, he waited until Freyda had relocked the door and returned to sit next to him, before lifting up and leaning over to bury his head in her hair and inhale her scent deeply, seeming to shudder with the pleasure of his action. Taking the knife from Sookie's throat, Ceannaideach pushed her down to the floor, onto her knees.

"Well, now you have everything you wanted. I want my payment." He said, his voice matter-of-fact, devoid of even the slightest bit of compassion or concern. Freyda's response was an almost girlish laugh, as Eric began to place biting kisses down the column of her throat.

"Yes. You are right. Now, more than ever, you have earned your reward." Reaching into the pocket of her nearly falling gown, she produced a small vial and threw it across the room. Ceannaideach caught it easily and examined it.

"He needs to swallow it, but it can be diluted either into his food or drink." Freyda answered his unasked question. Ceannaideach nodded. "I assume you'll want to be on your way now. Do give Breandan my warmest regards." She said in a distracted voice as she turned to Eric and brought his mouth to hers in a ferocious kiss, reaching under his shirt and running her hands up and down his chest. The sight of it, the pain of it, nearly caused Sookie to cry out once more. She had no doubt in her mind, as she looked at them, that Eric was not himself. Never, NEVER, would he take pleasure in touching Freyda that way. But what could she do to save him, to save them both? She had no idea.

"Yes, I should, but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather see this one meet her end before going. She's been a thorn in my side long enough. I want to know she will cause me no further trouble." Freyda laughed again, this time deigning to turn to Ceannaideach and smile coldly as she did so.

"As you wish." Turning back to Eric, placing another revolting kiss on his seemingly eager lips, she spoke softly, as if to an addled child. "My love, Ceannaideach has brought us a present. Look." She gestured to Sookie. Eric looked down, seemingly unhappy to have to take his eyes from Freyda for even a moment. His face remained impassive as he looked at Sookie, kneeling on the cold stone floor, tears painting her face.

"Who is she?" He asked, his voice as devoid as the rest of him, interested only because Freyda bid him to be so.

"This is Saoirse. She is Halbjorn's Queen and a vile and wicked Fairy. She has married Halbjorn only so that she could be close to you. Pathetic little creature that she is, she is desperately in love with you, and has refused to accept that you are mine. She has tried to come between us numerous times before. She must be disposed of if you and I are ever to be free to be together. Will you do this thing for me, my love? Will you protect me and defend me from her?" Freyda's words filled her with fear, but not for the things she said. Gasping with understanding, Sookie could practically feel the force of Freyda's influence rolling off of her. Somehow she was able to glamour other Vampires and she was doing it now, sending wave after crippling wave of control barreling into Eric, with such force that it caused Sookie's head to hurt even though it was not directed at her. This was how she had turned him against her, against his men, against his very being.

"And after I do this, we may finally be together? I grow tired of waiting." Was Eric's only response. The words themselves were heated and passionate, but again the voice that said them, like the voice of any glamoured person, was completely lacking in feeling. If that bothered Freyda at all though, she gave no indication. Instead, she simply nodded her head and gestured towards Sookie, focusing Eric's attention once more.

As Eric looked at her, that vacant glare where the tender gaze of her lover should have been, she felt the first waves of hopelessness wash over her. What could she do? With Freyda and Ceannaideach here and with Eric under Freyda's influence, there was no one to help her, no chance that she could fight them all off. Standing to her full height, determined that whatever happened next she would not face it weeping on the ground, she watched as Eric began to advance on her slowly, his fangs down, saliva dripping from them as a look of utter bloodlust suddenly painted his glassy eyes.

Steeling herself, she brought her hands down to her sides, balling them into fists. The motion caused her hand to brush her pants and the small bulge there. The potion! Niall's spell, it was still in her pocket where she'd laughingly placed it only the night before. Glancing around the room, Sookie tried to assess the position of each of her enemies. She saw that Freyda, still sitting on the bed, was behind Eric, his form almost entirely blocking her view. Ceannaideach stood at the door, placing him in back of Sookie. Slowly, slowly she reached into her pocket and thumbed the stopper off of the small vial, terrified each second that they would see her movements and attempt to stop her. Scanning the room once more, she saw that her cousin's attention was entirely focused on Eric, waiting for the moment when he would reach her, sink his fangs in and no doubt tear out her throat. With all the speed her human movements could give her, she pulled the now open vial from her pocket and brought it to her mouth, swallowing the sticky, sweet substance down before anyone could stop her. She saw Eric watching her, smiling coldly, sneering. It seemed he was the only one who had seen exactly what she had done, but his lifeless eyes told her he did not care.

"Nothing you can do will save you." He said dryly. "My beloved wishes your death and I shall give it to her." The words were chilling in their emotionlessness, but Sookie stood her ground, willing herself not to tremble, praying that Niall's magic would work as he closed the last inch between them and grabbed her roughly.

His bite was violent and she cried out in pain as his fangs sunk into her, tearing the flesh of her neck, but when he began to draw her blood in heaping gulps something happened. She saw through pained eyes that Eric seemed to take on a dim bluish glow and realized absently that it was emanating from her and flowing into him.

Suddenly he stopped, pulling back from her, reeling away as the bluish haze that had engulfed them both began to glow brighter and brighter. She saw Freyda stand up from her seat on the bed, a cry of demented rage bursting from her.

"What have you done?" She screamed, recognizing the presence of strong magic in the room and realizing only too late that something had happened. Ceannaideach was behind her, but she could dimly hear the sound of his hands fumbling with the lock of the door, trying, through his sudden fear, to get his hands to make it open, no doubt so he could flee.

The light began to fade and Eric was left standing in the middle of the room, holding his head in his hand. He felt as though he had been far away, lost in a deep fog, and only now it had cleared, allowing him the use of his mind once more. Looking up, he took in the room and was bewildered to see Sookie there with him and the Fairy Ceannaideach as well. What was going on? Before he could speak, Freyda rushed to him, completely forgetting the presence of anyone else in the room and grabbing him roughly around the shoulders.

"Eric, Eric look at me!" She commanded him, her voice almost level, but with an edge of terror to it. Eric let his hands fall to his sides and when Sookie saw his face she prayed that Niall's spell, binding in love the drinker with the Vampire who drunk from them, had been enough to break the chains of Freyda's glamour and bring Eric back to himself. Bring his love for her back from the deep recesses of his mind where Freyda's influence had banished it. Eric eyes, suddenly filling with anger, turned on Freyda with a burning hatred.

Sookie felt the moment Freyda tried to exert her influence once more, forceful waves coming off of her and being pushed towards Eric. They were so strong Sookie could almost see them hitting him and then falling away. Freyda wanted to make him forget his love for her once more, but she could not. The power of Niall's magic had now made their love, a love that had existed between them almost from the moment they had laid eyes on each other, completely unbreakable.

Unaffected by Freyda's power now, Eric reached out his hands, taking her neck violently between them before she could dart away. One hand closed itself around Freyda's throat and the other held tight to her shoulder and then, almost too fast for Sookie to see, he pulled.

Freyda had not even the time to scream in surprise as her head was ripped away from her neck, her body falling in a savage spurt of blood, her head still held firmly in Eric's grip. He looked down on it for one more moment, a smile of deep satisfaction crossing his face, before he turned and tossed it into the fire.

The sound of the lock finally giving caught both of their attentions and Eric did not even hesitate, moving to the door in a blur to grasp Ceannaideach by the back of his head and pulling her shocked and doomed cousin back into the room. Eric's fangs already down, struck into his throat, ripping it out, but not drinking his blood. Reaching around, Eric pulled her cousins iron tipped dagger from its sheath at his belt and plunged it into Ceannaideach's heart.

Backing to the wall, Sookie flattened herself against it as her cousin's screams suddenly ceased and his body began to collapse in on itself. When he was visibly no more than a crumbling husk Eric dropped the body, letting it fall in a puff of ash and turned to her.

Sookie had never been more frightened than she was at this moment. She felt sure that Niall's potion had broken the influence that Freyda had exerted over him, but the mere sight of him as he was now was terrifying. Blood dripped from his fangs and coated his mouth and chin, it covered his hands as the two bodies in the room, both falling to bits in their own way, stood between them. Was he himself, or would he now turn on her? His voice broke the silence, soft, gentle, filled with remorse and so entirely in contrast to the fearsome sight of him.

"Sookie." His hands, covered in blood, reached out for her, but she pushed back, trying to meld herself to the wall, still terrified that he might harm her. "Sookie, it's me. Please, I swear I will not hurt you." The look that came over his features now was one so filled with love and remorse, so terrified that she would not believe him, that she would scream or try to run from him, that it finally broke through the haze of her terror. It was him, he had returned to himself, to her. Her fear left her and her hesitation vanished. Pushing off the wall, Sookie flung herself into his arms, burying her face in his blood spattered chest.

"Eric, oh God! Eric!" It was all she could say, over and over again, as she wound her arms tightly around him and rubbed her face into the hard plains of him, sobs racking her body. His arms closed around her and his face went into her hair, breathing deeply of her scent.

"What happened?" He breathed, his voice filled with utter bewilderment. "The fighting broke out, I tried to kill her and then…then I don't remember anything until I grabbed her neck. What are you doing here? " Pulling away only slightly so that she could look at him, she tried to make sense of everything herself.

"She glamoured you. She made you believe that you loved her. She ordered you to kill me." It was only then that he saw the bloody tears on her neck. Drawing in a horrified breath, he touched the still bleeding wounds.

"Gods, I did this to you?" His voice was nearly broken as he realized what had almost happened. "How…how did you stop me?" Gasping through her tears, she brought her hand to her neck, trying to hide the marks from him.

"Niall's potion, you told me to keep it close. I brought it with me. I…I didn't know what to do, I couldn't fight you, it was the only thing I could think of. She glamoured you to forget me, not to love me anymore, and Niall's spell was to bind love and make it unbreakable." Bending slowly, he moved her hands out of the way and began to lick the wounds on her neck, staunching the flow of blood. When the wounds had closed, he pierced his tongue, letting his blood wash over them, not stopping until the marks had completely vanished. "Thank you. How do you feel?" She asked him.

"A little drunk." He said, laughing slightly, before his face darkened once more. "Drunk and bewildered and sorry. Sookie, I'm so sorry." She put her hand over his mouth, stopping him from speaking anymore.

"You did not do this. Freyda did this. And now she is dead, by your hands, just as you planned. Do not blame yourself." He nodded, but she could tell that he was far from forgetting this moment. Pulling away from him completely, she straightened herself. "Eric, your men and the Fairies are outside, they're being held by Freyda's Vampires. We have to free them."

For a moment he only stared at her, trying to get his wits about him. He had not swallowed more than a mouthful of Ceannaideach's blood, but it was enough to make him feel disoriented. Seeming to finally find his control, he looked past her to Freyda's crumpling body. Picking it up as though it was nothing more than a rag doll and opening the door with enough force to rip it off its hinges, he strode out into the hall.

Outside everything was as it had been only minutes before, when Ceannaideach had dragged her through it. Freyda's men stood surrounding their prisoners, waiting for direction from their Queen. Throwing what remained of Freyda's headless body onto the flagstones of the hall, Eric let his voice ring out clear and deadly.

"Your Queen is dead. Lay down your arms." Freyda's Vampires stood stunned and still for a moment, their eyes flickering between Eric and the body on the floor, and then one by one they let their swords drop to the ground. Eric's relieved release of breath was probably audible to no one but her, but she knew he had been afraid they would still have to fight their way out, something that might not have gone so well, given his current intoxication and the fact that their entire force was being held captive.

One of Freyda's Vampires approached them and Eric recognized him immediately as Freyda's Commander at Arms. Kneeling down in front of Eric, he spoke, his voice filled with trembling humility.

"We surrender, unequivocally. I beg you for forgiveness my Lord. We did not want to follow her orders, but we knew that if we did not she would bring her magic down upon us. Please my lord, spare us." Whether his words were truthful or not Eric could not tell, but he knew for now that he would have to believe him.

"Rise Cedric." Eric commanded. "I order your Vampires to disband. Your last act as Commander will be to help my men raze this place to the ground and then you will disperse." The Vampire Cedric nodded his head and began to order his men to clear the castle.

It took less time than one would have imagined for Eric, Cedric, Rival, and their men to bring the fallen Vampire Queen's fortress to a bright and burning blaze. But as they set off on the flat rafts, Sookie safely sitting atop Skjolder, the warhorse remarkably gentle and steady given the bright burning fire behind them and his reigns held firmly in Eric's hand, she watched the once frightening towers of Helvete Grind begin to collapse in on themselves, and the relief that poured through her was palpable.

It was over. They had saved one of her cousins. They had defeated Freyda and sent her, Sookie could only hope, to Hell's true gates, and they were still alive. Looking down at Eric, seeing that he too had been concentrating on the flames, she gently laid her hand on his shoulder.

When their eyes met, she could see that he was still holding hard to his control. He had won, but only just barely. His men had nearly been massacred, he had been glamoured by Freyda and he had nearly killed his beloved with his own hands. His emotions were a swirling mess of anger and despair, but he betrayed none of it. Instead he looked on her, his face illuminated by the still blazing inferno and poured all of his love for her, all of his remorse for the things that had happened, into their shared gaze. Returning his love, she bent low so that only he could hear her and let her breath caress his ear.

"It seems you have not only saved my kin and vanquished your enemies. You have rescued your Queen as well." Her voice was a playful puff against the side of his face, and she hoped it would lift him from his guilt. "Remember your promise to me, my Lord. When the Fairies have gone, I expect you to claim your reward." Sitting back straight in Eric's saddle, Sookie helped him lead Skjolder back onto solid ground and felt him jump up behind her, pressing her back flush against his front and winding an arm around her waist to hold her steady as they rode at the head of his men.

"I deserve no such reward." He said, his voice low and anguished as he whispered it into her ear. She was about to argue with him, when the coldness of his breath lifted her hair once more. "But my heart, my body and my soul need you now more than they ever have before." His hand, which had been holding tight to her waist, crept up slightly, caressing the bottoms of her breasts and the curve of her sides. "When the Fairies leave." He repeated, spurring Skjolder into a gallop, leading them back to camp.


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: Okay, I promise the lemons are coming up next chapter- no fooling, no more putting off. There are just a few tiny things that Eric and Sookie have to get out of the way first- and they'll do that right now!_

_Also if you're looking for a fab story, I'm thrilled to tell you that my awesome beta Sheknitsnicely has just published the first chapter of her very first story! It's very unique and original and of course it's and Eric and Sookie love story- so check it out- it's called "Speak to me, someone"_

_All that's left is to THANK YOU to everyone who's been reviewing this story! Wow, thank you __a whole big bunch__! I'm so blown away! It just makes my whole week!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…_

As they reentered the camp, Sookie looked up into the gleaming star filled night sky and realized, with complete astonishment, that it was still quite early. It felt as though an entire lifetime had passed since she'd watched Eric and his men ride off to meet Freyda, but in reality all of the frightening, exhausting events that had taken place afterward had occurred in not much more than the space of an hour.

Bemused that so much could have happened in so little time, Sookie watched silently as Eric halted the men. He had only just dismounted when Wallace, flanked by the six Vampires Eric had left to guard her and Ceiridwyn, approached. The darkening of Eric's features was only barely perceptible, but when Wallace went down on one knee, laying his battle ax on the earth before him and bowing his head in a sign of utter submission, it was clear that Eric was in no way surprised by what his friend was about to say.

"My Lord, we have failed you.._.I_ have failed you, and because of my failure our Queen was taken. I humbly offer my life in payment." Wallace continued to look down at the ground, even after he had finished speaking, as though he were readying himself for the inevitability of his final death. Looking from the two men in front of her to those behind, Sookie could see with terrifying certainty that many of the Vampires with them, and even some of the Fairies, were looking at Eric, expecting him to draw his sword and simply take off Wallace's head without another word.

The moment seemed to drag on, filled with more tension than she thought she could bear after all that had already occurred this night, as everyone stood perfectly still, almost frozen, waiting to see what would happen. For a fleeting moment she feared, seeing her love's stony face, that he would actually do it. But before she could find the words to beg him to spare their friend, Eric spoke out, loudly and clearly, the timbre of his voice demanding that he be obeyed without argument.

"Bind these men in silver for the remainder of the night. Wallace, as my lieutenant and commander of these Vampires, yours is the greatest fault. When we return to Upsala you will be bound in silver and locked in a coffin for two weeks." With that, Eric lifted Sookie from the saddle and they walked the short distance to the Command tent in tense silence.

"Eric, must you punish Wallace? He is your friend and it was not his fault: he could not have known what would happen. No one could have known that Ceannaideach was here!" She asked, her voice a tense whisper, all too aware of the refined hearing of the men outside. Eric took a long, calming breath as he looked at his Queen and his beloved. He did not want to fight with her, not after everything they had already been through this night, but he had to make her understand that what had occurred outside was necessary: he knew it and, more importantly, Wallace knew it.

"He is my friend. We have fought beside each other for over a century, he has saved my existence more times than I can count, and I his. But he is also my Lieutenant, the second in command of this army, and his failure to protect you almost cost your life. And while that alone is justification enough for what I have done, it is not the reason I have punished him. You must understand, Sookie, he did not simply endanger the life of the woman I love, the life of Sookie, but the life of Saoirse, his Master's wife and his Queen. His sole order was to keep you safe from harm and this he did not do. I cannot let his failure go unpunished before our men and he knows this as well as I. He would not have offered his life if he did not." Eric's words made perfect sense, and yet Sookie could not let it go. The idea that her friend was suffering because of her was unbearable.

"And yet, if I had not been captured and used Niall's potion to break Freyda's glamour, all would most surely have been lost. You would have remained under Freyda's influence, your men and Niall's Fairies would have been slaughtered and, once Freyda had disposed of them, she would have come here and killed Ceiridwyn and myself as well, no doubt. Does all that not make any difference?" The pleading tone in his love's voice was enough to make Eric's heart ache. He took no pleasure in ordering Wallace's suffering, and even less in hearing the suffering and guilt Sookie would feel for their friend's pains. But there could not be any way around it. This was an army and he was the leader of it. If he did not punish failure when it occurred, then his men would lose respect for him and would become undisciplined. It was a harsh reality but it was a reality nonetheless.

"That is why I have sentenced him to only two weeks in silver, instead of ending him. Sookie, you must understand that, no matter how much I do not wish to do this, and no matter how much Wallace, no doubt, wishes not to endure it, he and I both understand that this is necessary." Sookie's only response was an exhausted sigh. In the end, as with so many things, she knew that she simply had to put her faith and her trust in Eric. This had been his way of life for longer than she had been alive, and she knew that he led this army because Halbjorn believed him to be the very best of all of his men. In truth he was the best: better than any other man she had ever known.

Nodding her head, she closed the small distance between them, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head against his chest. Taking long breaths, she pulled in his familiar, comforting scent, still strong underneath the blood that covered them both and the grime of the fire and the dirt of the road they had ridden. It calmed her, allowed her to detach from all that had happened and all that, no doubt, might still happen on this night.

When her arms came around him, Eric felt himself let go of a breath he did not even realize he had been holding. He knew she was still not happy, but she had accepted and forgiven him for what he must do. Bringing his own arms tightly around her, wrapping her protectively in his embrace, he lowered his head into her hair, sliding his cheeks through the silken strands, reveling in the softness of them. He could have stayed that way with her all night, simply holding her in the dark, sharing their love for each other back and forth and letting their relief that it had all turned out well in the end wash the rest of the world away; but eventually the sound of movement coming from the other side of the darkened tent brought Eric back to reality.

Looking over at the pallet in the corner, Eric could clearly see, despite the lack of light, that Sookie's cousin had, at some point, awoken and was now watching them both with a combination of terror and complete astonishment. Pulling quickly away from Sookie, Eric straightened himself and spoke stiffly.

"Majesty, your cousin is awake and needs you." He said, with a great deal of put upon formality, as though Ceiridwyn had not just opened her eyes to see him embracing Sookie in an entirely inappropriate manner. "I will leave now. I must oversee the initial punishment and make sure that Rival and his Fairies are ready to leave." With that, Eric bowed and hurried from the tent. Turning to her cousin, Sookie walked over to the small pallet and sat on the ground facing her.

"There is magic… strong magic between you, Fairy magic. How is that possible?" Sookie looked at her cousin, unsure of what to say.

"You can sense it? How?" Ceiridwyn only grimaced in return, her exhausted body and mind attempting to form the right words to explain.

"I do not know quite how to explain it. I am Fae; the presence of Fae magic is unmistakable to me. It will be to other Fairies too." Swallowing hard, Sookie looked at her with pleading eyes. Ceiridwyn knew what it was she was asking without her cousin having to utter even a word. "No. The Vampires will probably not be able to tell, not unless they are extremely astute." Sookie's sigh of relief was plainly audible. "Now you will tell me, little cousin, how this has come about."

Staring at her kin, Sookie became immediately wary. She had never trusted or even liked Ceiridwyn, and she was not sure how much she should say now, but the fact of the matter was, her cousin had already seen and probably heard more than Sookie was comfortable with. Weighing her options, she decided that it was better to tell Ceiridwyn the truth rather than leave her to draw her own conclusions.

Taking a deep breath, she let the whole tale fall from her lips: finding Eric on the beach, rescuing him from the coming dawn, feeding him her blood, falling in love with him. She found herself telling someone, for the first time, how much pain she had felt when Niall had told her that she would marry Halbjorn, how that pain had not been from the prospect of marrying the feared Vampire King, but from the knowledge that she would have no choice but to abandon the man she had fallen in love with, the man she had, for such a brief time, dreamed of making a life with, despite all of their differences. She relived the loving moment in which Niall had presented her with the potion meant to ensure her happiness and safety in her new life. Her surprise and deep anguish on the night Eric had come for her and they had discovery their true identities. She felt tears prick her eyes as she recounted their hateful argument on the boat and the coldness and disdain with which Eric had treated her thereafter.

She laughed as she remembered her first, completely unexpected meeting with Halbjorn, and how she had come to respect him as she respected almost no one else save Niall and Eric. She told her cousin about the night of her marriage and Freyda's scheming, and finally how she and Eric had found their way back to each other. Eventually her tale wound out, and Sookie realized that she was not so much telling Ceiridwyn as she was unburdening herself of the maelstrom of emotion that had swirled around and inside her in the last months: months in which she had lived far more than she ever had in her previous twenty years.

When her cousin was finally finished, Ceiridwyn could only stare at her. She had never truly known Saoirse at all, she had never given herself the chance. Instead, she had merely followed along when her brother and sister had been cruel and never thought much about it. They were Fairies and Saoirse was not. They should have been first in their Grandfather's estimation and not the little half-breed. Looking back over the events of the last several days, she could only laugh bitterly at where her blind loyalty had led her.

She had loved Ceannaideach with her whole heart, following her brother in every scheme throughout her childhood, honoring and admiring him as a sister should, and what had it brought her? He had turned on her, murdered their sister and her husband. He had tried to murder her and her unborn child as well. After a lifetime of being taught that Fairies were superior, that they should put their own race first, it was her own brother who had done this to her, while her mostly Human cousin, who she had never been anything but vicious to, had come with a pack of Vampires to her rescue.

Of all her losses in the past few days, there was one pain that overwhelmed all the others: the loss of her husband. Had she ever truly known how deeply she had loved him until he was gone? She didn't think so, because never in all their short time together had she ever imagined that his loss could hurt this much. Looking up at her cousin now, still shocked from the story Saoirse had just confided to her, she voiced the only question that she could think of.

"You love him greatly, don't you? Even before the spell?" Saoirse nodded in reply.

"I do. I have loved him from the moment I met him, but I didn't know him then. My love for him then was more the love of a dream. He was beautiful and mysterious and silent and I was swept away without really thinking about it. When we first saw each other as we truly were, I thought I had been completely wrong in him. I think I even hated him for a little while. I know I hated myself, thinking that I had been a fool. But now…now I know who and what he is and no potion, no magic, no matter how strong, could make me love him more truly or more deeply than I already do." This time it was Ceiridwyn who nodded.

"And he loves you the same? Even before?" Sookie looked up at her cousin, the bright truth of conviction burning in her large Aster colored eyes.

"Yes. I know that he does." This time Ceiridwyn's reply was a raised eyebrow. It was all so much to take in: that her cousin could love a Vampire was shock enough, but that a Vampire, _this_ Vampire out of all of them, should love her back, it was an extraordinary thing. Ceiridwyn did not know what her instinctive response to learning such things would have been before, but after what had happened these past few days, after everything she had been through and everything she had lost, Coleman especially, she felt a deep need in her heart to do something for her cousin, to help preserve such a love, a love that was as great, if not greater, than the one she had so briefly known.

"What will happen when you die?" Sookie's expression changed almost instantly to one of shocked hurt. Not knowing what her cousin was thinking, but remembering the many times that Ceiridwyn had been her personal tormentor, she suddenly regretted everything that she had allowed herself to share. Determining to say no more, Sookie rose from her place beside Ceiridwyn's bed to leave, until Ceiridwyn laid her hand gently on her cousin's. Knowing of her cousin's gift, Ceiridwyn allowed her to feel now, without doubt, the strong and completely unexpected compassion emanating from her. She let her feelings radiate out of her as proof that, even if for the first time, she meant no harm.

Sensing Ceiridwyn's intentions and realizing their truth, Sookie breathed in deeply, trying to regain her calm and rein in her raging emotions. She looked deep down into herself, hoping to find the answer to her cousin's question.

"I have no idea." She answered, honestly. "He is almost three centuries old, he is strong…" Sookie found herself unable to finish that sentence. What would happen when she died? She knew only too well that, despite her small amount of Fairy blood, she had no hope of living more than a Human lifetime. How many more years would she have? Fifty perhaps, if she did not succumb to disease or infirmity. How many more years before she was an old woman, too old to stand by Eric's side? Even less. The thought was heartbreaking to her.

She had no doubt that Eric would love her until the day that death took her, perhaps even beyond that day, but what would happen to him once she died? She did not want to even imagine that he would harm himself. She had meant what she'd said to Ceiridwyn: Eric was strong, he would go on… wouldn't he?

Ceiridwyn watched quietly as the truth of loving an Immortal finally dawned on her innocent little cousin. It was a heart breaking moment. She did not want to tell her cousin that she strongly believed, if what she had just seen and what Saoirse had told her was true, that it was already unlikely that her Vampire would survive her death. If it had not been for the baby that grew in her womb, Ceiridwyn was not sure that there would be anything to keep her here now, anything to keep from welcoming her demise. There would be no such anchor for Eric to hold onto when Saoirse's time came.

Suddenly she knew what it was that she could do to repay her cousin for this thing that she had done, for helping to save her life when Ceiridwyn had never given her a single reason to show such compassion.

"Saoirse, has Niall told you much about his mother?" The sudden change in conversation startled Sookie, but she found herself able to quell the fear that her cousin's questions about her death had raised long enough to nod her head.

"A little, he told me he loved her very much, that she was kind and strong, a true Brigant Princess." Ceiridwyn smiled at her, a genuine and kind smile, one that Sookie had never seen on her cousin's face before. It made her truly beautiful.

"She was all those things. She was also magical, very magical. It is a trait that is often passed down to one's children and grandchildren. Niall, as you have seen, is capable of it, though he has never yet had the time to truly master it, and so am I. The child", Ceiridwyn looked down and stroked her belly lovingly, "is magical as well. I can feel it already. Saoirse, will you allow me to help you? I… I want to make amends for the things I have done to you." Sookie's surprise and disbelief were evident, but she could not stop herself from asking.

"How?" Ceiridwyn smiled again, her almost beatific smile.

"What I am proposing requires a great deal of magic, but I believe that, because of the baby I will be able to accomplish it. I can bind your life force to Eric's. You would live as long as he does. You would never have to grow old or get sick or die and leave him." For a long moment, Sookie could find no response. Could such a thing be possible?

"You…you can do this? You would do this…for me? Why?" Ceiridwyn nodded solemnly, the smile falling from her face and her thoughts turning mournful for just a moment.

"I do not wish anyone to hurt as I do now, and as much I have always hated Vampires, I cannot deny that I owe yours as great a debt as I owe you for saving me. Allow me to do this, and in doing it, to also make right the wrongs I have committed against you." Before Sookie could reply, a voice cut the air between them.

"And what happens if I were to be staked tomorrow?" Both women turned to the flap of the tent, startled. Filling the entrance was Eric. His voice was flat, steady, betraying no emotion, but Sookie could see the fire burning in his eyes. It seemed that, though the implications of a Vampire truly loving a Human had only just dawned on her, it was something that he had already given a great deal of thought to. She could tell that he was both greedy to take what Ceiridwyn offered and wary to believe that such a possibility could exist all at the same time.

"If I were to bind your life forces and you were to meet your final death, even it were tomorrow, then Saoirse would die too. The consequences of the binding cannot be removed from the benefits." Sookie knew that Eric was opening his mouth to give a reply, but she cut him off. Looking deep into his eyes, willing him to see the sincerity that lived there, she spoke.

"If you were to meet your final death tomorrow, I would not wish to live even a single night longer." Rising from her place on the ground, Sookie walked over to him slowly, her hands held out. Eric moved slightly, fully entering the tent so that the flap fell behind him, shielding their conversation from prying eyes. When Sookie closed the last little space between them, she took his face in her hands, smoothing back the soft tendrils of his hair that had escaped the braid he wore, caressing the strong plains of his face. "Eric…I love you so much, I want to be with you always, whether it be one more night, a thousand more years, or the rest of eternity. The only question is whether you want that as well. Do you want me forever, or…?"

Not giving her the chance to finish her words, Eric took Sookie's face in his own hands and bent down to her as he raised her to the tips of her toes. When their lips met, his kiss was all consuming, answering her question with the insistent press of his lips, with the passionate exploration of his tongue, and with the desperate craving of his fangs as they nipped over and over again at the fullness of her lips. When he released her minutes later, allowing her to finally breathe, he looked past his beautiful beloved to the Fairy that lay on the pallet beyond her.

"If you can truly do this, then I would be in your debt." Ceiridwyn felt her eyebrows rise high on her forehead: such a statement was not to be taken lightly. There was a time, not very long ago, when the idea of having such a creature in her debt would have been beyond appealing, but not now.

"There will be no debt, Vampire. I consider it payment to my cousin for… many things." Motioning with her hand, she beckoned them both to come closer to her. "Kneel here." She instructed. Taking a hand from each of them, Ceiridwyn joined them in both of her own. Summoning more magic than she had ever tried to use before, she felt herself take hold of Eric's life force, of the special magic that animated his body and kept him alive, and allowed a bridge to be created through herself to her cousin.

The magic that Ceiridwyn called forth began to swirl around them and, as it had in Freyda's chamber, Sookie realized that both she and Eric were glowing, but this time the light was a bright vibrant purple color and it flowed, strong and true, from him through Ceiridwyn and into her.

When the brilliant glow became strong enough to light the small tent all by itself, Ceiridwyn removed her hands. Smiling triumphantly, she watched as the glow receded from her almost immediately but continued to illuminate Saoirse and her Vampire, the magic of Eric's life flowing freely between them, binding their existences as surely as Niall had bound their hearts.

After a few moments the light began to fade and eventually it went out, leaving the two lovers staring at each other in awe. Before any words could be spoken though, the tent flaps again opened and Rival stood in its entryway.

"Highness, we are ready to depart." He said, bowing to Ceiridwyn. Smiling in response, Ceiridwyn stood slowly and turned to her cousin.

"I wish very greatly for the enmity between us to be at an end. If ever you have need of me cousin, you have only to call." Placing a gentle kiss on Saoirse's forehead, Ceiridwyn walked to the opening of the tent, turning at the entrance and bowing deeply. "I cannot express to either of you my thanks for saving my child. May I give the Prince your regards, Majesty?" Still shocked by everything that had happened this night, but especially by the events of the last few moments, Sookie found herself bowing automatically in return.

"Yes, thank you your Highness." With that, Ceiridwyn bowed once more and allowed Rival to usher her out of the tent.

"Vampire," Rival called out, "You have our thanks." With that, the Fairies mounted their horses and were gone in a burst of light.

Turning to his love, Eric looked at her anew, his heart swelling with the knowledge of the miraculous thing that had just happened. She would never leave him now, he would never have to suffer the pain of losing her, never have to think again about the void of blackness that would consume him after her death, or the stark inevitability that, immortal or not, he would not survive it.

Taking her in his arms, he kissed her with all his might, overcome by the softness of her body, the sweetness of her lips, and the bright beauty of her life, that would now stretch out over the centuries as his would. Smiling with joy as she parted her mouth from his, Sookie looked up at her fierce and beautiful Vampire, letting him see all the love she held for him before crooking one eyebrow seductively.

"The Fairies are gone."


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: So…um…ding dong the fairies are gone. Well here it is: the lemons. I super, super hope you guys enjoy them, and I want to give a huge shout out to two of my favorite women in the whole world: My beta, __**Sheknitsnicely**__ and my ffbff __**Cageyspice**__. Lemon writing is not something that comes easy to me and whenever it's making me crazy I call on them to give it to me straight and talk me back from the ledge. Thank you both so much for being honest when it wasn't working and helping me, hopefully, make it better! (if it still sucks, all the fault lays with me) I love you both SOOO much!_

_Also thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who's been reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story. I'm just beyond grateful for all your support!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

_So now on with the chapter that I've affectionately dubbed: __"FUCKING FINALLY! Eric gets to stick it in!"__…_

The sounds of the Vampires going about their duties outside the tent seemed subdued, distant, as Eric and Sookie stood, their arms still wrapped around each other, their eyes drinking in the sight of one another. The knowledge of the gift they had been given still so new and unbelievable.

"I can feel you." Eric said, his voice an awed whisper as his hands caressed her. "I can feel your life force entwined with mine. Can you feel it too?" He asked reverently.

Reaching deep inside herself, Sookie was astonished to find that she did feel him. There, deep in the recesses of her mind, not running alongside, but rather completely encapsulating hers, was his life, his strength, his love. It was magical and mystical and so completely right.

"I do," she breathed softly, "I can feel you all around me, inside me. It's…beautiful!" Her words filled him with a desire that he had never known before. The need to join with her fully, to entwine their bodies as their souls now were, became an ache deep inside him that could no longer be denied.

"Come with me now?" He asked, his voice still barely audible, yet filling every corner of her body with a fire that would not let sense or reason overcome it. Nodding her head, she followed him as he walked to the back of the tent, removing the spike that rested in the ground there, holding that section of the cloth structure to the forest floor.

Lifting the fabric, Eric ushered her underneath it and followed her until they emerged once more into the cold winter air of the night. Taking her in his arms again, he urged her to wrap hers around his neck. She did so without hesitation, fitting her form to his so that every part of her soft sweetness caressed him, enticing and delighting him, further fueling his need to be one with her.

Sookie stifled her cry of surprise in the hard plains of Eric's chest as they suddenly shot up into the air. She had seen him hovering at her chamber window many times in the last months, but never once had she seen him fly and never had she flown with him. The feeling was exhilarating and, coupled with the knowledge of what would happen when he again placed them on the ground, Sookie felt herself drowning in a sea of near euphoria.

They moved through the sky, just beginning to speckle with another winter snow fall, at a steady pace. Sookie's human eyes could only just discern the tops of the trees and the bits of forest floor here and there that were not covered by them, but Eric saw everything and, in the pale moonlight, he found his target.

It was a small hot spring that bubbled up from the forest floor, warm and inviting in the cold, snowy winter air. As they again felt the ground beneath them, Sookie could see the mist that formed off the water every time the cold drops of snow touched it. There were few trees here and the moonlight filtered down, true and sure, onto them, giving just enough of its pale, beautiful glow to allow them to see each other clearly.

Taking his arms from around her waist, Eric looked down on his beautiful Fairy Queen. Her body shivered slightly, though from cold or from anticipation he could not tell, but it spurred him to his task with ever more eager hands.

Moving slowly so that she could see every motion before he made it, he brought his fingers to the laces of her blood spattered tunic and pulled, loosening them so that he could lower the material from her body. Bringing his hands to her shoulders, he pushed the now open shirt down. Down past her elbows, as her breasts sprang free, her sweet pink nipples hardening instantly in the cool winter air and attempting to seduce him into abandoning his purpose and simply sucking upon them all night. Down to her hands, where she pulled her arms free of the material and it finally fell to the ground, leaving her top half bare before him.

Sookie's breath caught in her throat as she stood in front of Eric, taking in his hungry gaze as it roamed over her naked breasts and torso. Stepping closer to her so that her already tender and aching peaks brushed the fabric of his own shirt, Eric's eyes locked with hers as his hands traveled to the bindings of her leather pants. Undoing them with ease, Eric knelt before her, wordlessly helping her remove her boots and gently bringing the leather of her pants with them.

When he stood again, she was gloriously nude: a goddess in the moonlight, created solely for him. In the past months he had seen her naked almost as much as he had seen her clothed, and yet every time she was like this before him it felt new, wondrous, miraculous.

Her beauty was too great for this earth, too precious for the eyes of man, proof undeniable of her divinity. He marveled at the soft silk of her golden hair, the supple curve of her neck, the endless perfection of her soft, mouthwatering breasts, the lush swell of her hips, the inviting length of her legs, and the dark enchantment of the heaven between them, all of which compelled him to worship her with a strength that astounded him. Removing his own clothing, he stood before her, ready and aching to take her, but letting her drink her fill of him first, letting her eyes love and caress him just as his had her.

The cold air and the falling snow that melted on her skin when it touched her, barely registered in Sookie's mind as she looked up at the beauty of the man before her. She reached up, her movements just as slow and deliberate as his had been, and pulled out the braid that held Eric's hair, watching as his loosened hair fell around his face, a silken curtain that floated about, falling to touch the top of his chest. In the moonlight ,she could only barely make out his face, but his eyes, those endless, depthless blue oceans, shone out clear and hot, contrasting to the cold that surrounded them.

Sookie felt as though she could barely get enough breath as her eyes wandered farther, down the hard plains of his smooth, sculpted chest, to the deep 'v' created by the muscles of his stomach: that bewitching shape that constantly begged her to caress it with her hands, to bathe it with her tongue, to stroke down its beautiful length to the magnificent member cradled below.

Eric's manhood stood out proudly now, as it always did when they came together like this, telling her as no words could how much he wanted her, how deeply his desire for her ran and how completely he loved her.

Taking her hands in his own, he brought them to the edge of the small body of water, testing its depth and temperature. The water came up to his chest and was perfect for keeping his beloved warm in the frigid winter air. Pulling her in with him, he reveled at the feeling of her body wrapping around his once more, as she brought her arms around his neck and her legs tight around his waist, this time with nothing between them: no clothes, no concerns and no restraints.

Bending his head as he supported her in the warm water, he brushed his lips against hers, softly at first, their tongues darting out to caress one another, their mouths opening on identical moans of need. And then it was as though the dam of both their restraints burst at once. Bringing one hand from her waist, Eric gripped Sookie's hair in his fingers, moving her mouth this way and that so that every part of it was open and vulnerable to his questing tongue.

She answered him in kind, her own tongue darting out to wrap around his fangs, laving them and coaxing them to come down as far as they would go. Their mouths broke apart on his pained groan as Eric pulled slightly on her hair, moving her head so that her throat was bared to him next.

Eric nipped and sucked down the column of her throat, down along the lines of her collar bones as he used his strength to raise Sookie's body farther out of the water, bringing his face level with her breasts.

He brought his lips to the undersides of her rounded swells and began to pull one into his mouth, sucking on its fullness, scraping the sensitive skin with his fangs and darting his tongue out to rasp teasingly across her over-sensitive nipple.

Her moans were almost as delicious as her skin and he began to suck ever harder, knowing already how much she both loved and hated the torture he was capable of inflicting on her breasts; knowing that it would take almost no time at all to have her panting, writhing and begging him to take her nipple in his mouth and suck as hard as he could.

He was reminded again how different this act was with her than it had been with anyone else. In so many ways he already knew her body better than he knew his own, and yet it never bored him, never felt old or routine… just the opposite. Every time he touched her, it only stoked his desire to touch her more. Every caress both satisfied him and left him starving at the same time. Knowing that this time he would not have to pull back, that he would not have to retain his sanity in order to stop, made it all the sweeter, and he gladly relinquished that sanity, turning his mind off to any other thought but the pleasure she gave him and the pleasure he would give her.

His mouth on her breasts was quickly taking her past rational thought. She needed to feel him, any part of him, inside of her; needed to feel him moving within her more than she cared whether she took her next breath. Tangling her hands in his long hair, the only part of him that she could reach in her position held by his arms, suspended half above him, she begged him for the thing that she wanted most.

"Please…please Eric. I need you!" She said, her voice a breathy whisper against the falling snow, her body writhing in his grip, just as he knew it would.

"Where do you need me?" He answered around the straining peak of her nipple, still being held captive in his mouth. Looking down on his face, knowing that her eyes were every bit as wild as his, she knew what he longed to hear, what he'd hoped to make her mindless enough to say.

"I need you between my legs, I need you there now!" She panted. Smiling at her with an almost ferocious look, he obeyed. Laying her body down on the ground, her legs still in the warm water, he parted her thighs wide and bent his head, letting his mouth fall on the round indentation of her navel, before kissing his way down, down past the golden silk of the hair that marked the beginning of her sex, down till his face was only a mere centimeter from where she wanted it, his cool breath mingling with the colder air as he blew on her, causing her to shiver and tremble.

"There is nowhere else I would rather be." He whispered before his mouth descended. Eric played with her weeping sex just as mercilessly as he had played with her breasts, licking and sucking, gently biting until she was nothing more than a quivering mass in his hands, so desperate for her release that she could barely speak.

"Please, please Eric. We've waited so long. I can't wait anymore." She groaned, her head shaking back and forth, nearly mindless with her need for him. Looking down at her, laid out on the grassy edge of the spring, her body moving restlessly, needing him as she never had before, he knew it was time. He too could not wait a moment longer.

Lifting her back into the water with him, he wrapped his arms around her once more, one arm high on her back so that his hand could grip her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, and the other arm low so that this hand could grip the beautiful, firm roundness of her bottom.

Taking her mouth in another feral kiss, he felt her reach down between them, gripping his eager cock with one of her small hands and parting her own dripping folds with the other. They moved together, aligning his straining member with her tight heat. His mouth pulled away at that moment, their eyes locking as he began to push slowly up into her, using whatever was left of his mind to move with care, to bring her as much pleasure and as little pain as possible.

The feeling was indescribable. Sookie's hands and mouth already knew his length thoroughly, knew his girth intimately, and yet she could never have imagined that he would feel like this inside of her. There was pain, a slight, sharp sting when he pushed past the barrier of her innocence, that caused her to gasp in shock; but then… then there was nothing but searing, mind altering pleasure, as he sheathed himself fully inside her.

For Eric there was nothing… nothing but this: nothing but her tight, hot, wetness around his desperate cock. Nothing but her moans and cries of ecstasy, the exact mirror of his own. Nothing but this moment, this woman, around him in every way in the darkened night, painted white with tiny drops of falling snow.

Holding her gaze as though it were the only thing keeping him grounded to the earth, he began, instinctively, to move her on him, letting her noises of bliss be his guide through their joint journey to pleasure. After a few moments, in which he reveled in the sheer wonder of at last being completely within her, he felt her arms tighten around his neck, encouraging him to move her more fully.

"More." She begged, just before her lips closed over his, her tongue invading his mouth, sliding over his fangs once more, provoking him with the desire to sink them into her sweet flesh, to sheathe himself fully in the perfection of her body.

They moved together over and over again, lost in their shared dream for what seemed like eternity, as he pushed them both to that place where nothing existed but the desire to attain that blissful peak. His body took full command of hers, invading, owning and possessing her, as they tried to bring their skin as close together as possible, attempting to merge into a single being.

When the end came, it was a bright white light that seemed to shatter them both with its intensity, causing her to cry out his name again and again and him to rear his head back for only an instant before his fangs pierced the fragile skin of her neck.

She remained there, wrapped around him as he stood in the warm water, dazed, languid and utterly sated, her arms tightly around him as his cock continued to move gently within her and his mouth continued to suck lazily at her throat. There were no words, there couldn't be. Nothing had ever felt like what they had just shared. Nothing had ever made her lose herself before as she had just now in his arms.

Pulling his fangs gently from her throat, his tongue laving and sealing the wounds there, he used every last bit of strength he had to keep his legs locked, so that he wouldn't simply collapse.

When he could form words again, he pulled back slightly, looking down on her face, tucked securely into the curve of his neck. She had never been as beautiful as she was in this moment, with the snow dusting her hair, her lovely breasts rising and falling, erratically rubbing against his chest as she struggled to bring herself back under control after the pleasure his body inside hers had given her. He did not know what to say to tell her how very much he loved her, how proud he was that she was his, how desperately he already wanted her again and again…how he prayed his thanks to his gods that he would never lose her to the ravages and frailties of humanity.

"We belong to each other now, fully, forever." He whispered, before burying his face into the softness of her hair and kissing the top of her head again and again. He listened with utter completion as she laughed joyously, nodding her head in agreement and banding her arms and legs around him ever more tightly, to keep him as close as possible.

They made love again twice more before dressing each other slowly, reverently, and making their way back to camp. It was no more than an hour before dawn when he brought her into her tent, pulling her to him and laying still ravenous kisses on every square inch of skin he could find.

"I must go to ground now." He said reluctantly as he pulled away. Her whispered "I love you" and his ardent reply were the last things said before he parted from her, cursing the rising sun.

.oO~*~Oo.

Exhausted from the events of the previous night, Sookie spent most of the cold winter day sleeping under the furs Eric had left for her in the tent. When she'd woken in the late afternoon, the sun was already beginning to make its decent into the western sky.

After eating the stew her Were guards had brought for her, she bathed in the water they fetched her from the stream nearby and dressed in the black, woolen dress she had brought, thankful that Amena had pushed her into taking it, and waited just outside the tent for the sun to finally sink out of sight.

The sun had been gone no more than ten minutes when the Vampires began to flood back into the camp, the men already knowing, after years of working and fighting together, what needed to be done to get on the move without being told.

As they came back in, Sookie caught sight of Wallace moving slowly. Making her way over to him, she sat down on the ground and watched as he began to gather his things.

"Majesty, how fare you this evening?" He asked, his voice sounded pained despite the fact that the worst of the silver burns seemed to be already healing.

"I am well, but I was concerned about you." Wallace's response was a small smile as he looked at her.

"I am not finally dead, and neither are you, so this night is a good one." He replied. When he saw the look of guilt that crossed her face, he left off with his task and came to sit beside her. Watching as he tried to settle himself as comfortably as possible, Sookie marveled at the sheer size of him. He was just a hair shorter than Eric but easily twice Eric's body size, and all of it was hard, bulging muscle, covered in coarse, fire red hair.

"You must not feel guilty or upset about anything that happened last night, nor must you blame Eric for doing his duty. I made a grave mistake, one that I should not have. I have been fighting Fairies for a hundred and twenty years and I am second in command of this army: Ceannaideach should never have gotten the better of me. All things taken into account, Eric's punishment is quite lenient. Anyone else would have sent me to my final death before I had even finished my apology." Looking at him, Sookie wondered how he could take it all with such aplomb. Wallace noticed her stare and did something he had never done before this Human, but which he always seemed compelled to whenever she showed the slightest sign of distress: he reached out his hand and patted her shoulder gently, reassuringly.

"You must understand, Lady, we are Vampires. Most of us were turned against our wills by masters who taught us to survive by stripping us of our Human frailties in the most pitiless of ways, and have lived in a state of constant war for decades. Pain is no stranger to any of the men you see before you, nor is it something we fear any longer. I am not angry or offended by Eric's punishment. Were our situations reversed I would have done the same. I have, actually." He told her, chuckling slightly. Sookie could feel the question written on her face before she even asked it.

"Have your situations been reversed?" Wallace looked at her with an expression of amused incredulity.

"Did Eric never tell you?" Sookie only shook her head, not knowing what it was that he expected her to already know. "When Eric came to Halbjorn's court I was his Commander, although at the time we were not at war and there was no standing army: I was simply the commander of his royal guards." Wallace took in the look of astonishment on his Queen's face and it only made him laugh harder. "It's true. Ocella, Eric's maker, had just released him and, of course, being the Vampire that one is, he left Eric out in the world with not a thing to his name. I believe he traveled back to his home in Norway first, but there was nothing left of the place where he had been Human (his once small fishing village is apparently a great city now) and so he decided to seek his fortune at Halbjorn's court instead.

Halbjorn has an eye for picking great warriors and he immediately offered Eric a place in his guards, which Eric took without hesitation since it meant a safe place to rest, an abundant source of food, and an income as well: three things his maker had never seen fit to give him or allow him to get for himself in the years Eric was tied to him. Eric was always a fine fighter but he was anything but disciplined when he first came to us. He was unruly and I punished him many times, but instead of enraging him or causing him to resent me, he took it as a true Vampire. It was the first sign that there was something great in him.

He had not been a member of my guards for more than a year when he quite unwittingly thwarted an assassination attempt on Halbjorn's life. He had no advance warning, none of us did, but he jumped to his King's aid without hesitation. That night he killed a Vampire two centuries older than himself, with nothing more to his advantage than his skills as a fighter. Halbjorn has never forgotten it. It is why he favors Eric so. When war finally broke out between your people and mine, Halbjorn was raised from his position as the King of Gotland to High King of the North and, when it came time to gather an Army, it was Eric to whom he gave the position of Lord Commander." Sookie looked at her friend and wondered at the close relationship he and Eric seemed to have: close enough that Wallace would not even bear him ill will for publically punishing him.

"If it is so, how is it that you two are…well….friends? Surely you must have hated him for taking a position that would have rightfully been yours?" Wallace's face seemed to fall into a grimace for just a moment before it quickly passed, being replaced with a look of utter pragmatism.

"I was angry in the beginning, angry and jealous. I am two hundred years older than Eric and I have been fighting since before his ancestors could hold a sword, but war is an interesting thing. When someone saves your life enough times and proves by his victories that he is simply gifted at what you have always had to work for, you can either allow yourself to wallow in bitterness or you can accept and choose to learn from them. I chose to learn from him and I have never been sorry for it and, in doing so, I gained a comrade and a brother. This life, no matter what little bumps there may be on the way, is far better, far more exciting and …far happier, than the ones I've lived before. So do not worry for me, Lady. A night in silver is nothing to me; two weeks in silver next to nothing. I am merely happy that you still live. I would endure far worse to be sure of your safety." Before Sookie could reply, a tall figure dressed in black walked up to them.

"Wallace." Sookie looked up to see Eric standing in front of them, a look of uncomfortable hesitation painting his face.

"Aye, Eric." Wallace answered, coming to his feet. The two Vampires stared at each other for a long moment in which Sookie could see a myriad of emotions passing between them, before they seemed to come to some sort of mutual understanding. Stepping a little closer to each other, obviously in synch once more, the Commander gave orders to his lieutenant.

"Have the men ready to depart within the hour." Wallace's response was a low bow as he set off to make sure that the others were nearing ready to go. When he had walked off, Eric held out his hand to Sookie.

"Majesty, we will be underway soon, may I help you saddle your horse?" Not knowing what to say that would not betray her eagerness to begin their slow journey across the beautiful forested countryside, Sookie only nodded her head and extended her arm, letting Eric help her up from the ground.

The journey back to Upsala took four more nights and each of those nights they found time to leave camp and wander together through the dark forests, stopping to touch and talk and make love over and over again.

"What will happen when we return?" She asked him on the last night of their journey, as they lay in a small meadow several miles from their encampment. From the shelter of his arms, with her head lying on his cool chest, she couldn't see his face, but she could clearly imagine the frown that crossed it as she heard him release a deep sigh of frustration.

"I will speak to his Majesty as soon as we return, but the fact is that you will smell unmistakably of me for at least several days. You will have to pretend to be ill for at least that long and stay away from the other Vampires." Sookie nodded her head, accepting it as a small price to pay for the little bit of paradise they had stolen.

"And after that?" She questioned further, rubbing her face into the soft, sparse, golden hair under her cheek. His grip on her tightened just a little bit and she knew that he hated having to think about returning, to going back to the way things had been before.

"Halbjorn has always kept the Vampires of the court from getting too close to you. If he gives you another drop of his blood and continues to keep them at a distance he can probably pull off the deception that it was him who took your innocence." Eric knew that he had failed utterly in keeping the sour note out of his voice, but he could not help it. He knew he owed his King a great debt for allowing him to be with Sookie, to love her as they had both so long desired, but the thought of others believing that it was Halbjorn who'd had her stirred a very primal kind of anger in him.

Sensing his anguish, Sookie lifted up on her elbow and leaned over him, placing sweet kisses along his chest and the length of his neck, until she reached the juncture under his ear. Biting gently, she began to rub her body against his, letting him feel the full heat of her desire and love.

"I love only you. Let them think what they will, it makes no difference. You and I know the truth." She was right of course. Realizing the futility of wallowing any further, he pulled her fully on top of him and claimed her mouth in a drugging kiss, grazing his fangs over her skin and caressing all of the most sensitive places along her glorious body before shifting her underneath him and taking all of her soft sweetness slowly, one last time.

They reached Upsala the next night and had barely dismounted in the castle courtyard when Halbjorn came rushing out to meet them. After clasping hands with Eric and Wallace heartily, he turned to Sookie and helped her dismount her horse. As he lifted her down, she felt more than heard his intake of breath. Looking up at him when her feet again touched the ground, she saw a small smile play across his face for just an instant before it returned to its normal neutral lines.

"My Lady, you seem a bit warmer than usual. Are you feeling quite well?" If she had not known that there was no way for Halbjorn to have overheard their conversation in the woods, she would have believed that he was a co-conspirator in the plan she and Eric had decided upon. It seemed that, much the same as when they played chess, he was always three moves ahead of everyone else. Smiling wanly, she looked up at her husband with a combination of grateful thanks and deep respect.

"I _am_ feeling a bit poorly, my Lord. The journey was harder on me than I had expected." She replied, daring a sideways glance at Eric, who nodded at her almost imperceptibly.

"I think it best that you go to your chamber and rest for several days, my Lady. We cannot be too cautious of your health. I will make your excuses to the court." With that, Halbjorn released her and she bowed low to him before taking Amena's waiting arm and heading into the Keep proper. She had almost crossed the threshold when she heard Halbjorn behind her, huddled with Eric and Wallace, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Antonious arrived late last night. He has brought the majority of his court with him." Stopping mid step, stunned and suddenly frightened, Sookie turned back to see that Eric had gone paler than she had ever seen him before.


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: Hi, here is the next chapter. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, for poor Eric and Sookie. They just can't seem to catch a break. Eric's daddy is in town and of course that means it's going to be a bumpy last few chapters. I want to assure everyone, though, that there isn't going to be any Eric/Appius "action" (consensual or otherwise). I know whenever Appius shows up we all get really scared about what he might do, and I'm definitely playing with that fear- cause he's a scary, selfish, manipulative mean ass SOB who'd use whatever means were at his disposal to control people, but I'm just not going there. Eric's already been through enough in that department. _

_Okay, I just want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story! You guys are blowing me away! I never would have expected this and I'm so super grateful to you all. Thank you as well for all the alerts and the favorites! I heart you all!_

_And I heart my beta, Sheknitsnicely! You are fabulous woman, betaing two stories for me and working on one of your own (which is soooooo fabu) your superwoman, and my hero!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…_

If he had been a Human, Eric would no doubt have begun to tremble. As it was, he was incapable of stopping himself from taking two deep, almost panicked gasps for air, before he again felt suitably under control.

"Eric, I need you focused." Halbjorn said, his voice gruff with command, trying to bring Eric back from the dark place he had momentarily fallen into. "Antonious brings…worrisome news." Turning around and heading into the Keep, Halbjorn gestured for Eric and Wallace to follow him closely. As they walked, at a far slower pace than normal, wending their way through the long stone corridors to the Great Hall, Halbjorn attempted to bring his Commander and his lieutenant up to date.

"Antonious arrived last night with barely any advanced warning. He has brought the majority of his court with him!" Halbjorn informed them, not needing to emphasize the strangeness of it all to his two most trusted fighters. Eric and Wallace exchanged incredulous glances at this news. Before they had left, Halbjorn had nothing but a vague message from Antonious saying he wished 'at some point' to meet with him. Now he was here without any real warning and had brought with him over a hundred courtiers, a small group of his soldiers and, most alarmingly, his Lord Commander. "He says that there are problems in Rome. The Christian Pope is calling for the faithful everywhere to stamp out the remains of paganism and to turn on the Devil's children that still live among them. Antonious says he wants my help in mounting a joint offensive, striking the Humans before they strike at us."

Did it never end? Halbjorn could feel himself growing more and more frustrated as he recounted the unexpected surprise of his fellow High King's arrival last night and the details of their discussions. Antonious might truly want his help in rooting out the troublemaking Humans, but to Halbjorn it seemed that he was much more interested in looking for a place to hide. And in doing so he had, uncaringly, brought the problem directly to Halbjorn's doorstep.

"Before they strike at him, he means. What will you do?" Eric asked, feeling every bit as suspicious as Halbjorn. "If he is in earnest and you give him the men and money he desires, it may cause repercussions." Halbjorn could only agree. The Christians were right at their door here as it were, with the Arch Bishop of Sweden just a few miles away, on the other side of the city with nothing but the Temple to the Aesir Gods between them.

Upsala had always been a shining example of Peace. Halbjorn ruled here undeniably, but he had allowed the Humans who filled the city and served him to live their lives as they chose, whether they sung the Mass of the White Christ or celebrated the feasts of the Aesir Gods with him. He had allowed the Humans to have their grand Cathedral and it had stood beside the temple of the Gods of his childhood for two centuries now without incident.

Yet, if he helped Antonious it could cause the Humans here to take up arms against him in retribution. If he did not, and ignored the potential threat, it was also possible that they might take up the call of their spiritual leader and attack him first anyway. Either possibility boded ill and, if he were truthful with himself, Halbjorn would admit that the constant strain of war and threats to his rule were beginning to wear on him. For a creature who was supposedly incapable of tiring, he felt nearly exhausted.

"I have not decided yet. I will wait for Sa'ida to come and hear what she has to say first." He finally answered. By this time they had nearly reached the Great Hall, but before they rounded the corner that led to the vast wooden double doors, Halbjorn stopped them, coming in close to Eric and inhaling deeply.

"You still smell of her faintly. Go, bathe again and change into something fine. You are my Lord Commander and we have Royal company: I can't have you looking and smelling as though you fuck the Queen every night and then go to rest in the stables." Halbjorn commanded sternly, only the faint uptick at the corner of his mouth betraying the fact that he was not actually angry.

Eric bowed low and began turning in the direction of his chamber, not sure how he felt about the fact that Halbjorn was comfortable enough with their strange, new and unspoken arrangement to joke about it, when his King called after him.

"And Eric… I don't have to tell you that it can't happen again while at court?" No, Eric thought. Unspoken as they might be, he was well aware of the rules. Yet still, hearing it said plainly brought an unexpectedly strong pang of longing washing over him. It suddenly became all he could do to nod in response before bolting down the Hall.

After having bathed and changed into his finest clothes (black leather pants and a tunic of black silk shot through with thread of gold at the hem and sleeves) Eric made his way back to the Great Hall, his mind in turmoil. It galled him to admit it, but the truth was undeniable. The only feelings he could summon, when thinking of facing his maker, were fear and revulsion. For one hundred and twenty years he had tried his best to put Appius Livius Ocella behind him: one hundred and twenty years in which he had all but convinced himself that the things his maker had done to him no longer mattered, that he was stronger than the rape, the beatings, the torture, the mind games; one hundred and twenty years when he had told himself that he had survived and he was free.

That illusion of freedom was about to be shattered, and the terror he felt at what his maker might yet do to him was so palpable that it was almost a living thing. He tried to tell himself that his fear was irrational, but he could not.

As he walked, Eric tried to puzzle out the facts before him. Antonious had seemingly fled Rome, whether from cowardice or to raise an army as he claimed, mattered little. Yet even if the High King was here, it did not follow that Appius should be as well. As Antonious's Lord Commander, Appius should have remained behind at his post to quell any insurrection and hold his Master's throne. Why then was he here and not in Italy?

Eric had no time to ponder further though, as the large wooden doors to the Great Hall came into view. The guards there bowed low to him and opened them wide, revealing the vast assemblage that was Halbjorn's and Antonious' courts now mingled together.

When Eric stepped into the room, all conversation seemed to stop and all eyes turned to the tall, beautiful warrior as he walked the length of the Hall to his King. Haldis and Calder, for he assumed no one else would have done such a magnificent job on such short notice, had redone the hall in order to honor their guests and set the large rectangular room almost as though it were a massive table, with Halbjorn's throne at the head of the room and then two smaller, yet equally opulent, marble chairs at the left and right for his royal guests, with their banners and colors hanging above them.

Keeping his eye trained forward, Eric stopped before Halbjorn's dais first, bowing low in reverence to his King and chosen Master. Then he turned, walking half way back down the hall, turning to his right and bowing less deeply before Antonious. When Antonius had acknowledged him, Eric again turned, only slightly this time, and steeled himself as he looked upon the face of the monster he had prayed so often and so earnestly that he would never see again. Careful to betray none of the raging emotions that had swirled within him only moments before entering the hall, knowing that if he did his maker would sense them through their bond and take advantage of them, he walked slowly up the steps of the smaller dais to stand directly in front of Appius and went down on one knee, bowing his head.

"Master." He said in a whispered tone, hoping that the quiet of his voice would be mistaken for reverence. Eric tried hard not to flinch when he felt Appius's hand come down over his head, grasping Eric's skull in a movement that no doubt looked affectionate to those who watched, but merely served to remind Eric that Appius could rip his head from his neck with not much more than a flick of his wrist.

"My child," Appius replied, his voice smooth as silk, reminding Eric of a coiled snake ready to strike, "such respect. Yet, this is but a formality. I have released you from my service and lo, you have risen to great heights for one of your still tender age. Why… we are equals now, are we not?" The edge with which Appius spoke those last words was subtle enough to have gone unnoticed by their audience, but to Eric it was unmistakable. Looking up into his maker's face, Eric could see quite plainly the fires of anger and jealousy that burned there.

"No matter what my rank, you will always be the superior Vampire, my maker." The words stuck in his throat, but he forced them out. He hated Appius as he had never hated anything before or since and yet he knew, with certainty, that if he wished to escape this visit unscathed, he would need to keep his wits about him. Better to calm the beast with empty flattery than be head strong and defiant and pay the consequences, or worse yet, watch while Appius exacted his punishment on someone else, someone dear to him. Eric allowed himself to be lifted back to his feet by Appius's hands on his arms, all the while studying his maker's face intently, trying hard to remain perfectly still and passive when one of Appius' eyebrows rose high on his forehead.

"There is something…different about you, my child." Appius raked his gaze over his progeny again, looking for the thing he could not yet name but knew to be there. The change was not physical of course, it would never be: he had frozen Eric at the height of his beauty and strength, and as he beheld his child again for the first time in over a century, Appius marveled that it still took all of his plentiful self-control to keep from embarrassing himself with the strength of the arousal this man ignited in him.

Appius willed himself to be calm by reminding himself that there would be time for such indulgences later. First, though, he needed to know what it was that had changed in his child. It was right there on the edge of his sense's ability to detect, but it was unmistakable. It rankled Appius: an annoyance, like a dream that is nearly forgotten when one wakes, but leaves the trace of the emotions felt behind.

Before Appius could say anything further, the doors to the Hall were opened once more. This time it was a guard from the outer gate bearing a message. The guard walked directly up to Halbjorn, bowing low and handing over the fine paper, which carried with it an unmistakably delicious scent. Opening the letter, Halbjorn read it quickly and then looked down on the guard.

"Does his messenger wait for a reply?" Halbjorn asked, his brow creasing with something between amusement and annoyance.

"Aye, M'lord." The guard answered. Halbjorn nodded in reply.

"Tell the Prince he is welcome in my home and that I will personally vouchsafe his safety while he is here." With that, the guard bowed once again and turned to leave.

"What news, Halbjorn?" Antonious asked, looking gratified that something had come to break the monotony of the night. Halbjorn's court might look different from his own, but in the end it was all the same. Halbjorn looked at his fellow monarch and tried to keep the scowl off his face and out of his voice.

"It seems Prince Niall has finished taking care of his pesky Water Fairy problem and now wishes to spend some time visiting with his great granddaughter." Halbjorn replied evenly. To this, Antonious only raised his eyebrow. It was Appius's voice that next rang out.

"And where is her Majesty this night? We have heard so much about her, I confess to being much interested to finally meet her." It did not escape Appius's notice that it was not just Halbjorn's face that darkened at his breech of protocol or his obvious interest in Queen Saoirse.

"You must forgive my Queen. She has just returned from the Eastlands, where she helped Eric take care of a pest problem of my own. Unfortunately, for all her Fairy blood, she is still primarily Human and the journey through the harsh Northern winter was not good to her. I have instructed her to rest for the next several days and regain her health and strength. It is my hope that I will be able to present her to you before you must take your leave, but that, of course, will depend on how quickly she recovers. It would not do to go through all the trouble of procuring a part Fae simply to lose her to something as trifling as a cold." Halbjorn watched the reaction of his guests closely, making sure that they understood that his word on this was final. Again, he cursed Antonious and his terrible timing. Now was not the time to appear as though he had anything to hide, and it was already pushing it to pretend that a Vampire, any Vampire, would care about the health of a Human more than the dictates of protocol.

Though the night seemed to drag on, the boredom of small talk punctuated only by the extremely whitewashed version of Freyda's demise and the gossip surrounding the surprising fall of Prince Breandan's house, dawn finally began to call the Vampires to their rest, and Eric was only too happy to escape the Hall and return to his resting place. Not even the twenty feet that had separated him from Appius all night, as they stood behind their respective Kings, was enough to settle the anxiety that swam beneath Eric's icy surface. He longed for the safety of his chamber and the oblivion of dawn as he never had before.

He had not made it even half way to his chamber before he felt the presence behind him. Halting his stride and turning slowly, he looked on the form of his maker and realized that, this time, there were no crowds and no Kings to keep Appius on his best behavior. Knowing what his maker expected and not wishing to tempt his anger, Eric bowed low once more.

"Master." He said, and nothing more. If Appius intended to tell him why he was here or if he simply wanted to play with him, nothing Eric said or did would deter him from it, and so Eric chose to say nothing.

"Eric, is that truly all you have to say to me, after all this time?" Returning to his full height, Eric looked down on his maker, his eyes neutral. Physically Appius was by far the less impressive man: short, muscled (but not overly so) and older in appearance, his hair even shot through with the first strands of grey. Yet Eric needed no reminder of the power Appius could wield over him. He had come far in his hundred and twenty years of freedom and triumphed greatly. He had found a home and a family of his own choosing. He had made a name for himself, one that was spoken with fear and respect throughout the north, and he called on all his strength now, in the hopes that it would help him from reverting to that scared, lost man who had awoken to find his entire life taken from him in the blink of an eye. He hoped to keep from feeling ever again the helplessness and sorrow of knowing that his existence was no longer his own and that he would never see the ones he loved again.

"Why are you here, Appius?" His maker had wanted to know if Eric had anything more to say to him. This was the only thing Eric wished to know. Beyond that, he would be happy never to encounter or even speak of this Vampire again. Appius only chuckled. It sent frissons of dread running down Eric's spine. It was a sound he remembered all too well and one that had always boded ill for the hearer.

"Well, I had been coming to finalize a marriage contract for you with the persistent Queen Freyda, but it appears that you have rendered that task moot. It's very disappointing actually. I have refused her several times in the past and had originally intended to do so again, but with the unrest in the South, I found myself warming to her ever increasing offers of lands and money. I am most displeased." Appius said the last with the harsh edge to his voice that brought back endless memories of beatings and violence. Unable to stop himself, despite his rising fear, Eric spoke his mind, momentarily angered beyond all sense.

"You have released me. You have no right to broker a marriage on my behalf." He had never been more thankful that Freyda had been unstable and clearly impatient. If she had not run out of forbearance and made her drastic bid to lure him or if Appius had sent advanced word of his change of heart, he would no doubt be making his way to Helvete Grind within the week as a sacrifice to his Master's ambition and greed. His relief was short lived though, as he suddenly felt a rush of pain from inside himself, one so severe that it brought him to his knees. It hurt terribly, but it was not a surprise. He had dared to question his maker and now he was being punished for doing so. He had known it would happen, even as he'd foolishly spoken his piece and, though the pain was unpleasant in the extreme, Eric found himself perversely gratified that it no longer made him mindless with terror as it used to. It was one less weapon Appius had to use against him.

"You are _MINE_ to do with as I please!" Appius ground out, as he tightened his internal hold on his child. "You dare to question me? You dare to believe that you have a right to yourself that is greater than my own? Truly Eric, Halbjorn has spoiled you. I can see now that much of my hard work in breaking you of your stubborn arrogance has been undone. You are as prideful and willful as ever! Perhaps it is for the best that Freyda is no more. You are clearly not ready to be made a King. You must be made to remember your priorities first, and the most important of those is that you exist at _my_ pleasure, your greatest purpose to serve _my_ aims." With that, Appius released his hold on the younger Vampire and Eric fell to the ground, trying hard not to betray weakness by gasping for unneeded breath as his body desired him to. Unable to stop his maker, Eric watched as the smaller man leaned over him and began to pet his hair in a gesture that would have seemed comforting if it had been witnessed by anyone else, but simply made Eric feel as close to nauseous as he had ever come since his turning.

"You are mine, Eric." Appius purred more softly, his voice taking on a roughened quality that Eric knew signaled the change in his Master's emotions, from anger to arousal. "It is clear that you have forgotten me here in this frozen land. Antonious wishes to raise a larger force to deal with the Christians of Italy. When he has done so, you will return with me and help me in my task to my King and you will stay for as long as I have need of you." With that Appius rose, a small, malevolent smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "And I know that I will have almost constant need of you, for a great long while."

Turning on his heel, Appius walked slowly away, leaving his child still kneeling on the floor. He could feel Eric's deep despair and turmoil, though the younger Vampire tried to hide it from him. It gave him even greater satisfaction, the tangible proof of Eric's loathing of him, and it would have allowed him to go to his rest quite gratified, when he felt something else coming from Eric. He could not describe the emotions precisely but they seemed to be a combination of deep sorrow, mixed with longing and…_love_!

Appius felt sure that this strong emotion of love was somehow connected to the strange change in Eric that he could not put his finger on. His progeny was hiding something, something of great interest, of that Appius was sure, and he determined at once that he would not leave until he had rooted out Eric's secret and used it to the best of his advantage. As he lay on his bed to seek his rest, he spoke to the four windowless, stone walls as though they were Eric himself standing before him.

"It's your own fault. Was not the first rule I taught you that a Vampire must never care for anyone but himself?"


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: Hi, so a lot to say today. First and foremost I want to give huge hugs and a BIG THANK YOU to everyone who's reviewed this story. I made it past a 1000 reviews last chapter and I'm just blown away. I don't have words to express my gratitude!_

_Next up, I'll be doing a double posting this week so chapter 23 will come out on Thursday. We only have three chapters left to go and even though the next couple are super angsty I'm asking you all to have faith, this is the last big storm before the happy ending. I promise that it's coming so don't let Appius make you lose faith!_

_Last up, my wonderful father is coming to visit us for two weeks this weekend. We only get to see him about twice a year so my hubby and I try to do it up good. This year we're going to Switzerland for 10 days. I'm not sure if I'll have internet access where I'm staying so there is a chance I won't be able to post next week, which is why I wanted to give y'all a chapter on Thursday. I'll try to let you all know by Thursday but if it ends up that I'm forcibly unplugged I apologize wholeheartedly. I take posting this story on time very seriously and I won't leave you all in a lurch unless I have no way around it._

_Okay other than that I want to tell my beta, Sheknitsnicely, how much I love her! I fall deeper and deeper each day! Thank you so much for all your help and support_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…_

"Child. Child, you must awaken, the day is already old!" A deep and gentle voice spoke into the darkness that surrounded Saoirse. Opening her eyes slowly, she could not help the wave of happiness that washed over her as her vision came into focus and told her that she was not dreaming. Standing over her, with the warm and loving smile that had filled her happiest childhood memories, was Niall.

"Grandfather!" She exclaimed, heedlessly throwing back the furs and velvet blankets of her bed and launching herself into his arms. "Grandfather, what are you doing here?" She said, after a long moment in which she simply snuggled into him, enjoying the familiar scent and feel of him. Niall laughed whole heartedly as he held his granddaughter tightly and kissed the top of her gleaming, golden head.

"Did Halbjorn not tell you? I sent a messenger to him last night telling him that I would be coming to spend a few days with you." He answered, feeling all the happier that he could surprise her. "Amena wanted to wake you the moment I arrived, but I told her to let you rest. However, I was beginning to worry that, if I did not rouse you soon, you would sleep until sunset!" He laughed again. Saoirse pulled out of her grandfather's embrace and a deep blush of embarrassment painted her face.

"I'm sorry, I'm not quite used to being awake during the day anymore. I have not had Amena to demand I wake with the dawn for the last few days!" She laughed bashfully.

"It is of little matter. Dress, and I will have the servants bring us breakfast." Niall replied, his voice betraying his high spirits, as he turned and walked back through the doors to her receiving chamber to order their meal. When he had left, Saoirse bounded out of bed, happy for Amena's help in dressing. Amena had already put out one of her favorite gowns: rose colored silk with flowing sleeves, trimmed in white ermine at the neck and wrists to keep off the winter chill, and a lovely cream colored shift to go under it.

Dressing quickly and leaving her hair unbound, Saoirse placed the gold and sapphire circlet that Niall had gifted her with on the night she left Ireland on her head and made her way through to her receiving chamber to find her grandfather already sitting at the set table, awaiting her. Sitting across from him, she could barely contain her joy at his unexpected presence.

"Tell me all the news, grandfather. What has happened?" She had known, after what Breandan and Ceannaideach had done, that Niall would no longer allow Lidan to leash his anger or curb his rightful desire for vengeance and she was sure, since Niall was here with her now, that he had already taken steps to ensure that all was safe in Ireland.

"It is done." Niall answered her, his voice becoming a little more solemn and his eyes wistful as he told her everything. "We moved against Breandan the moment I left you. The fighting was brutal and we have lost even more people, on both sides, but Breandan is no more." Saoirse swallowed hard when she thought of what her grandfather had been forced to do. Niall would never regret felling Breandan, but he would feel it greatly to have taken more Fairy lives, especially now.

"And Lidan?" She asked. This time, Niall's jovial air disappeared completely and he looked over at her with an expression of heavy regret. Yet as she watched him, waiting for his answer, she saw that regret morph into something else. There was a new air about Niall, one that she had seen hinted at many times in his carriage and bearing, but that had never been so pronounced.

"The people have taken care of that. When word reached those in Faery of the kidnapping of Ceiridwyn and Caronwyn and the death of Coleman and his men, they had had enough. The people had been angry at Lidan for many decades, for blindly following Breandan's war mongering and for allowing things to get to the point where we were forced to beg peace from the Vampires; this was simply the final straw. He was killed by his own guards two nights ago. It is not common knowledge outside of Faery and Ireland yet, but it soon will be. As the last remaining Prince of our people, I am now High King. I have come to spend time with you, my granddaughter. I have missed you greatly, but I am here officially to apprise Halbjorn of this news." Saoirse could make no response at first, the news was so startling, but in the end she could only be happy.

Niall was a strong and wise leader. If anyone could ensure the survival of their people, it would be him, and now he would have the ability to do so, unhindered. Rising from her chair, she walked around the table with all the steady grace that she would use if she were walking the length of the Great Hall to her throne and, when she reached Niall, she went down on one knee.

"I give you my most hearty congratulations, my King." She intoned, bowing her head low, her long blond hair spilling over her shoulders. Niall only laughed, his happiness returning to him. Taking her by the shoulders, he set her back on her feet.

"None of that now, if you please. Come, finish your food and tell me how it has been with you." Saoirse's hesitation at his question was not lost on him, but he sat quietly and waited as she told him about life here in Upsala. He was pleased to see her so well taken care of, and pleased better still to note that she seemed to be truly contented.

When he had given her over to Eric, he had feared that her life here would be one of misery and servitude, and it had given him many a sleepless night to imagine his precious granddaughter being treated as an object for Halbjorn's trophy chest. But he could clearly see that this was not the case, and the sparkling happiness that surrounded her was like the light of the sun. She was as bright and beautiful as she had ever been and, though it shamed him slightly to admit it, she was clearly happier here than she had ever been with him.

"And so the potion has worked then?" He asked eagerly, when she had finished telling him of all her adventures. He admitted that it was a great source of satisfaction to him that he had any small part in orchestrating her happiness here. "I admit that I did not sense it when we saw each other so briefly a few nights ago, but then I was very distracted. I can, however, fully sense it inside you now." Niall's smile was short lived though, when he saw the reaction that his question had pulled from her was quite the opposite from what he had expected. There was no ready agreement, no eagerly spoken thank you: instead, Saoirse merely bowed her head to hide her face in her hair and looked away to the window.

"There…there are things I must tell you, that I have not yet, grandfather. But it cannot be here. Our meal is finished. Will you walk out in the gardens with me?" Nodding his head, feeling the first stirrings of a worried knot in his stomach, Niall held out his hand to his granddaughter and they exited the castle with all haste.

Saoirse led Niall, silently, into the rose garden that she had come to think of as a sort of refuge from the castle and from the prying eyes of her servants and Ladies-in-waiting alike. Using her ability, she searched the area to make sure that she and Niall were quite alone, and then she sat him on a bench in the center of the garden, choosing herself to remain standing.

"Child, what is it?" Niall finally asked, speaking to her in his native tongue, when it became clear that Saoirse would not, or could not, start their discussion. Looking up at the bright blue sky above her she began to let it all out, in a flurry.

Just as she had with Ceiridwyn, Saoirse told him everything from the beginning, watching Niall's face as it went from astonishment at her brazen and dangerous rescue of a wounded and hungry Vampire, to puzzlement as she spoke of the unexplainable pull that she felt to Eric, which had all but forced her to feed and care for him, and to so quickly fall in love with him. She could see her grandfather's obvious rage and indignation as she explained the dark time between them, when Eric's anger had been a nearly uncontrollable thing and her own hurt had all but eaten her from the inside, and his disbelief when she told him of their reconciliation: of Halbjorn's acceptance and genuine gift of permission and, finally, of the taking of the potion. The only thing she held back from him was the gift Ceiridwyn had given them.

She knew her grandfather well and, though he loved and doted on her as no one else ever had, he was a man driven and ruled by his strict adherence to duty. It was his belief in the sanctity of duty, above all else, that had forced him to give her up to Halbjorn in the first place, and she worried now that he might, in his anger at her choice to carve out some small bit of happiness, despite her responsibilities, punish Ceiridywn for her act of kindness and reconciliation.

"And you have…joined with this Vampire?" Niall asked, his voice awash with too many emotions for Saoirse to single out any one indicator of how he was taking all of this.

"I have. I love him. I did before we drank the potion, as did he." She answered simply. Niall stood abruptly and began to pace the length of the small lane of the garden in which they sat.

"Saoirse…are you mad?" He finally said after a few moments of relentless movement. Saoirse tried to answer him but, before she could, he interrupted her harshly. "How could you do this? How could you let this happen? It does not matter if Halbjorn has given you his permission, privately or not. If you are discovered he will have no choice but to punish you both! And there will be nothing I can do to help you. He would be well within his rights, as your husband, to kill you for this!" As Niall spoke, his voice had become ever more strained.

How could she do this? How could she allow herself to utterly ignore everything that he had taught her, to ignore the obligations of her station and place herself in such danger for something as worthless as the love of a Vampire?

"And if I had not drunk the potion with him then I would most surely be dead now anyway, my throat ripped out by a glamoured Vampire. One way or the other, this would have come about, grandfather. Even if I had felt nothing for him before, I would still be in love with him now." As Niall stared at his granddaughter, these many months separated from him, but still the most precious being in his world, he tried to accept what she said.

She was like Fintan in so many ways that he had never fully realized before. And just as his son had given up everything for the love that he could not be happy without, so she now risked all for a love every bit as forbidden, but so many times more dangerous.

He had allowed himself, all those years ago, to lose his son to the dictates of duty. He had banished Fintan from his house and from his life for the choices that he had made, and he had lived every day since Fintan's death with the weight of his regret.

Staring at Saoirse now, he knew that he faced the same moment of decision once again. He could rail at her all afternoon, raining down words of anger and disappointment at her choices. He could tell her how she had betrayed not only her duty to her husband but her love for him by choosing to so wantonly disregard the well-being of their people and the honor of his house; or he could do what he should have done with Fintan. He could swallow his wounded pride and forgive her for her very Human need for love and tell her that, no matter what, he would always love her, always care for her, and never turn his back on her.

In the end, he already knew how the first choice would turn out for him. He already knew that belief in his own righteousness was a cold and empty companion when the ones you loved had been driven away, and he knew that, though he had borne the pain and grief of that choice twice already - first with his own human love and then with their son - he was too old now to bear it again.

Closing the small distance between them, Niall opened his arms and pulled Saoirse close to him. She stood there stiffly for a long moment but then, to his great joy, she seemed to melt, her smaller frame collapsing against his and her arms winding around him with desperation. He knew that she had been fearful that he would abandon her, that he would turn his back on her like he had done to so many others and he tried, with all the might that still resided in him, to show her that he would not.

"You remind me so much, child, of another I loved with my whole heart, but who I allowed to be taken from me by my pride. I told you once that you have been my joy when all else was sorrow, my light when all else was darkness and my pride when all else was shame. I told you that you would be with me for as long as I walked this earth and I swear to you now that I will be with you for as long as you live as well. I am greatly fearful for you, child, but I love you even more." When Saoirse looked up at him, she could see the unshed tears glistening in his eyes and she knew that, though he was not happy with the choices she had made, he would not turn away from her, and that was all she could ask. She did not want or need his permission, but she felt truly grateful to have his understanding.

"Thank you, grandfather." She whispered, as she buried her head in the soft folds of his shirt once more.

.oO~*~Oo.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the sweet, companionable way that Saoirse remembered spending all of her many happy moments with her grandfather. There was a great deal of talk about nothing, and a greater deal of talk about politics, but much happy silence as well. However, at dusk Niall stood from the fire in her receiving chamber, where he had sat across from her, enjoying a light dinner, and brushed down his clothes.

"The sun is setting. I must go and speak with Halbjorn before all his time is eaten up with Antonious." Niall said, leaning over and kissing Saoirse's head gently.

With that, her grandfather was gone and Saoirse was left sitting in front of the fire, contemplating all that they had spoken of this day and all that had happened in the long days since she had last sat at this fire.

She did not know how many nights she would need to remain in seclusion, but she already longed to be set free of it. Yet she knew that, in the end, it was a small price to pay for the joyful moments she had stolen with Eric and for the acceptance that Halbjorn had given them. Still, she wished she could be with Eric, wished to be with her friends, wished especially to be in the Great Hall tonight, as she knew that Wallace would receive his punishment publically.

It still rankled her heart to think of him suffering because of her, for a circumstance none of them could ever have imagined was a possibility. But she knew that Eric was right. This was the way of things and, if she was to be a Queen among these Vampires, she would have to harden considerably.

Saoirse's emotions swirled and shifted as she communed with the flames. She thought of how happy her life here was. She thought of how much she loved her dear friends and how grateful she was to be with Eric, no matter what obstacles they still faced or what constraints still lay on their relationship. Yet, if she were completely honest, if she were allowed to be completely selfish for one single moment, she wished that she could turn her back on it all.

She wished that she could simply walk away from this place: from her position, from her rank. She held being Queen in no great esteem, as she had never held being a Princess. She would gladly work, struggle and strive if it meant that she and Eric could be together openly. She admitted that she had dreamed, more than once, of what it would be like to travel to Eric's home and live quietly there with him, as his woman… as his wife. He had told her so many stories of the land of his childhood that she felt she could almost see them there together, looking over the beautiful wooded, green landscape to the deep blue ocean that would practically touch their door. A small, sad smile played across her face at those last thoughts and she shook it away as if warding off a chill. This was not their path. They would have to endure here and find another one...of that she was certain.

When the door to her receiving chamber opened once more, Saoirse turned her head, her bright smile returning to her, expecting to see her grandfather returned from his meeting with her husband. Her smile quickly faltered as she came face to face with a Vampire she had never seen before.

He was short, for a man: perhaps not more than a few inches taller than herself, with close cropped, dark hair just beginning to grey, a wide Latinate nose, and an almost pervasive air of maliciousness about him. His dress, a short sleeved linen shirt worn under a brown leather vest, tight brown leather pants and boots and a skirt of stripped leather that ran from his waist halfway down his thighs, told her that he was clearly a Roman. And all those things together told her exactly who he must be.

"Commander Ocella." She said, rising from her chair before the fire, attempting with all her might to keep her fear from spiraling out of control. The Vampire before her merely smiled, a look she found in no way comforting or friendly.

"Queen Saoirse." He intoned sweetly, bowing with a show of clearly feigned respect. "Forgive me for intruding upon you unannounced. I was told that you were ill, but I simply had to come and see you for myself." Saoirse bowed in return but, as she did so, she became keenly aware of his nearness to her in the otherwise empty room.

"You have been told correctly, Sir. I am unwell. I must ask you to leave." Saoirse felt confident that the rising panic within her had not yet reached her voice, but she did not know how much longer she could count on that, as Appius made no move to obey her and merely continued to smile.

"Forgive me. I did not mean to impose upon you, but his Majesty made it clear that you might not feel up to joining us in the Great Hall during our stay, and I wished very greatly to meet you and to thank you in person for the service you paid my child in saving him during your journey here. Eric is…precious to me, and I could not leave without expressing my most sincere gratitude." As Appius watched the small woman before him, hearing her heart pounding away beneath her skin and standing as close to the fire as she dared without setting her skirts aflame, he felt a moment of great satisfaction.

He had what he'd come for. Even in the fairly large expanse of the room, her scent wafted to him unmarred and the overtone of it was undeniable. She reeked of Eric from every pore and the otherness that he had detected around his child, that he still could not name, surrounded her as well. There could be no question now that her supposed illness was nothing more than clever deflection, meant to hide the damning truth.

It galled him in some ways to think that his child had risked so much for the Human that stood in front of him. She was pretty, to be sure, and he had no doubt that her blood, laced with Fairy as it must be, was delicious. But in the end she was still a Human. He saw nothing so incredible about her that he could understand his child's reckless need to saddle himself between her legs. However, he supposed he owed this Human and her mysterious charms a great deal. She had just made his life so much easier. He would now, without question, have the right to take Eric back to Rome with him, and would indebt Halbjorn to himself and to his King for the great service of rousting this treason, a debt Halbjorn would be made to pay in men and money to secure his Master's throne.

"You have no reason to thank me, Sir. Your child is one of my Lord Halbjorn's most trusted servants. Doing him service only further renders the service and respect which I owe to my husband. Now I must ask you to leave. I am still feeling poorly and am readying to retire for the evening." Saoirse's last words came out forced and harsh, her only desire to be away from this creature as quickly as possible.

Appius bowed to her once more, the smile that had not yet left his face seeming even more sinister to her as the moments passed. If he did not leave, what could she do? She was not stupid enough to believe his words. He cared nothing for Eric, except in the barest sense of what Eric could do for him; of that she was certain. Nor did she have any doubt that, as old as he must be and as connected to Eric as he was, Eric's scent on her would be unmistakable to him. The only question that remained was what he would do with this knowledge.

The panic that had been rising in her since she'd turned to see him there in her rooms reached its zenith and, had it not been for the doors swinging open at that exact moment, she had no idea what she might have tried to do. But instead, she found herself face to face with the three people who cared for her most: Eric, Niall and Amena. All of whom, in their infinite wisdom, must have realized as well that her secret had finally been discovered by the wrong person.

Amena rushed to her and Saoirse fell into her nurse's arms, allowing the fear within her to overwhelm her now that she was no longer alone, while Niall stood stock still, his hand at the ready, waiting for even the slightest sign that it was time to draw his sword. Only Eric spoke and, when he did, his voice was a ghost of its usually strong and assured self.

"Master, their Majesties have sent me to find you. They await your presence in the Hall before beginning the night's business." This time Appius chuckled loudly, the points of his fangs visible, even though they were not fully extended.

"Of course, my child. I had only come to pay my respects to _your_ lovely Queen. It seems I have even more to thank her for than I had originally anticipated." With that, Appius bowed once more to Saoirse and swept from the room, only stopping at the door to wait for Eric to accompany him.

The tension was still palpable and Eric wished, more than anything, that he might be able to at least hold Sookie in his arms for just a moment. He wished that he could tell her, no matter how great a lie it might be, that everything would be alright. But he was denied even that. Sharing one intense and hopeless glance between them, Eric turned to his Master and followed him out the door, doing his best to keep his head high and his terrible trepidation from over taking him.

They had not made it more than a hundred feet when Eric finally spoke, hoping against hope that there could be some way to keep his Master from harming Sookie. He knew that Appius would have what he wanted from him. Now, more than ever, Eric would do anything he commanded, but he would do it willingly if only Appius would give his word to leave Sookie alone. Quickening his step, he came alongside Appius and began to speak.

"Master…." A single raised hand stopped him. Halting abruptly and turning to Eric, the smaller man pinned him with a withering glare.

"As your maker, I command you to be silent!" Appius had barely gotten the words out when Eric felt the bands of his maker's command constricting him, taking away his voice. He waited with terrible dread to hear what Appius would say to all of it, but nothing came. Instead, his maker merely started walking again and bid him to do so as well.

When they reached the hall, everyone was once again assembled and Eric watched, standing mute, with a heavy heart as Wallace was taken to his punishment, a punishment Eric had been forced to order. Brought out before all, his friend bowed low to their King and accepted his sentence with all the honor of the warrior he was. He then stood tall and unmoving as he was bound in silver, the chains making his skin smoke where they touched him, and was then lowered into a coffin, which was metal on the outside (so the guards bearing it to the dungeon would not be burned while carrying it) and lined with silver along the interior.

When it was done, four guards picked up the coffin and carried it away while the assembled courts watched in silence. The moment was meant to be uncomfortable for those who watched, especially Eric's men, who had looked on knowing that punishment for failure was meted out to all, high or low, when necessary; and who hopefully understood that not just the punishment but also Wallace's acceptance of it, was a symbol to all of them of how a warrior must behave, both in triumph and in defeat.

It was into this solemn silence that Appius chose to speak and Eric knew, without question, that the worst of the night had not yet begun.

"King Halbjorn," Appius began, with his normal disregard for protocol. "I am gratified beyond what I can say to see such justice served in your court. Truly, you are a shining example to us all, that rank is not above the call of justice." Halbjorn turned at the sound of Appius's voice and the look in his eyes was one of utter astonishment. No one had given Appius leave to speak and yet the man did. His arrogance had only grown in the years since they had least seen each other. They had known each other for several centuries and, even before Eric had come to his court, Halbjorn had disliked the legionnaire intensely. Now, as he looked past him to Eric and saw the unmistakable dread on Eric's face, he began to realize that something was terribly wrong.

"I thank you for your praise, Lord Commander." Was all that Halbjorn replied, waiting, with an ill sense of foreboding, as Appius continued.

"It is most humbly given, my Lord. However, it is with a sad heart that I must inform you that there is one within your court that deserves even greater punishment than Sir Wallace." Little noises of interest seemed to come up from the assemblage at that, and Appius pushed on immediately, seizing the moment and playing to it for all that it was worth. "I cannot help but feel, in some way, responsible for all of this, since it is my own child who I have discovered is at grievous fault." At that, the noises of interest became excited whispers as the bored courtiers of both courts scented the possibility of blood in the water.

Halbjorn looked to Eric, willing him to speak, trying desperately to figure out what point it was that Appius was driving towards, when he saw Eric's expression fade from dread to utter defeat. Still he said nothing, though, and Halbjorn realized that he remained speechless because he had been commanded to do so. Standing from his throne, Halbjorn silenced the Hall.

"If there is some complaint that you have against my Lord Commander, then I ask that you speak to me of it privately, Ocella. Justice is indeed well served here, but I do not allow unproved accusation to be thrown about in my Hall." Appius's only answer was a grating chuckle.

"I promise you that my accusation is far from unproved, my Lord. I have confirmed the truth of it this night. It is my sad duty to tell you, Majesty, that your Lord Commander has made a cuckold of you, behind your back…with the Queen. I saw her and smelled the undeniable evidence of it not an hour ago." Appius's smile was triumphant and it was in complete and utter contrast to the thunderous anger that Halbjorn now reacted with. His voice filling the hall with his rage, as he stepped down from his dais, advancing on the Roman.

"You have _dared_ to seek my Queen out, my HUMAN out, without my permission? You have dared to defy my direct order that she be left undisturbed?" The hall had grown deathly quiet as those that surrounded them watched in terror as Halbjorn vented his considerable wrath on his fellow King's servant. Yet, Appius made no move to stand down. Instead, he stared directly at Halbjorn and spoke out with equal force.

"I had no choice, your Majesty. The moment I suspected wrong doing on the part of my child, I was compelled to discover the truth. Have the Queen sent for and all will know that I speak in nothing but honesty!" From the moment Appius had begun to speak, Eric knew that things would end no other way. Halbjorn's attempt to scare Appius into silence had been valiant but it was, in the end, useless. The moment the accusation had been spoken, all was lost and had Halbjorn been successful in silencing his maker, everyone here would have known that Halbjorn had played a part in hiding the truth. This could not happen, if it did then Halbjorn would lose face before his court.

If Halbjorn were to lose face, then he would also risk his throne and then there would be no hope for any of them. Sharing one long look of helplessness with his Commander, Halbjorn was powerless to do anything but accede to Appius's request and order the guards at the door to fetch the Queen in all haste.

Mere minutes later, she appeared at the doors to the Hall, flanked by his two guards and looking as though she had already seen the gates of Hell themselves this evening. Halbjorn suspected that she too must have known what was about to happen and yet now she appeared before them, head held high, eyes dry and clear, already accepting of the turn Fate had just taken.

As the guards walked her up the Hall, Halbjorn could see the many Vampires that lined the way taking deep breaths of the air as she passed. Saoirse would not have to answer any questions, as Eric had not; there were no longer any to ask. The scent of Eric was there inside her, clear as the light of the full moon, and the scent of her innocence was unquestionably gone.

The guards stopped just a foot away from Halbjorn, Appius and Eric, and bowed deeply. Seeing his victory plain as day, Appius hurried to close in on his kill.

"Your Majesty can have no doubt that I speak the truth now. Eric, I release you from my command of silence. Speak, if you have anything to say which can save you." Eric still remained silent and all three knew there was nothing to be done for it. So, with his voice ever as loud as it had been, but completely devoid of emotion this time, Halbjorn gave the order and he and Saoirse both watched as Eric was led away to join Wallace in the dungeon, to be chained in silver while he awaited punishment.


	23. Chapter 23

_A/ N: Here's the next chapter. This one is angsty too, but as I have told some people already, give me this one last chapter of melodrama and heartache and I promise to give you the charred remains of Appius on a plate!_

_Really quickly, there was one big question at the end of last chapter that came up in the reviews (thank you guys by the way, y'all are my touchstones and I LOVE YOU!) that I thought I would address here cause I'm sure that other people are wondering as well. Why didn't Niall mask Sookie's scent before she went to the Great Hall? So here's my answer:_

_It's my understanding that when a Fairy masks their scent they smell like nothing- their the olfactory equivalent of a blank space. This is a good thing if your only objective is to keep the Vampire in front of you from losing his cool and eating you! But since everyone has a scent the Vampires in the hall would have known right away something was up. Since these Vamps are used to seeing and fighting Fairies all the time, and already know about the ability of some Fairies to mask their scent, it would have been no help. They would have known she was masking and therefore that she had something to hide and it would have looked as though she was trying to lie on top of everything else. So I don't think that would have worked. I hope that's a helpful answer!_

_One last thing: I still have no idea about whether or not we'll have internet where we're going. So if you see a post on Monday then you know I'm still in the 21__st__ century! If not I'll post again the Monday we get back!_

_Okay, as always I have to give love to my beta, Sheknitsnicely, cause you're the most awesome beta ever, and to everyone who's been reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting! Y'all rock!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…_

As the door to her chamber closed behind her, the six guards who had escorted her from the Hall taking up position around her door, Saoirse felt the weight of her fear pressing down on her like a leaden object upon her shoulders. It caused her whole body to shake and tremble with the strain, yet it denied her even the comfort of tears. To weep would have been a welcome release from the sickening dread that churned within her, but her body was apparently not ready to feel release or relief.

She nearly jumped across the room when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she saw Amena standing behind her. Her nurse's expression of nervous anxiety was only outdone by the expression that painted her grandfather's face as he stood in the door way between her audience and receiving chambers, clearly unsure whether he should attempt to comfort her or urge her to explain exactly what had happened first. Not waiting for either of them to ask, Saoirse leaned up against the closed wooden doors and let it all out in a rush, her eyes closed, hoping that, if she did not see their reactions, then the whole thing would be that much less real.

"Eric's maker has accused him of treason publically. With his scent still so clearly on me, there can be no question of our guilt. Eric has been taken to the dungeon and I am under arrest and bid to stay here in my apartments under guard until the King is ready to pass sentence." Still the tears did not come and it made every word Saoirse said feel like a knife twisting into her stomach. She tried to breathe deeply, feeling the panic, that had no way of draining from her body, rising higher and higher and seeming to take her over. It was then that she felt Niall take her roughly her by the arm. "Grandfather, what are you doing?" She gasped, astonished as he all but hauled her up against him.

"We are leaving. I will not allow you to be harmed. I am High King now. If Halbjorn wishes, he may try me and he shall see what he gets." Niall's words, in complete contrast to the conversation they had just had that morning, when he had told her he would not be able to help her if she and Eric were discovered, were said with vicious intent and Saoirse became suddenly aware that, despite his earlier denials, if it came to it, Niall would again make war with the Vampires for the sole purpose, this time, of keeping her safe.

She could not let that be, for so many reasons. She could not let it be because her people would not survive it. She could not let it be because the thought of her loved ones, both Fairy and Vampire, warring against each other over her misdeeds was too much to bear, and she could not let it be because to leave would be to abandon Eric, something that her body and soul revolted against so completely that the mere contemplation of it made her ill. Pulling her arm away from her grandfather with all the force she possessed, she took three long steps away from him.

"No!" She said, her voice filled with conviction even as her eyes pleaded with him for his understanding. "I will not leave, grandfather. I swear to you that Halbjorn will not harm me. He has given us his blessing. He is an honorable and trustworthy man. He will not throw Eric and me to the wolves simply to save face."

Niall weighed his options carefully. He could simply over power her and take her away by force, but he knew that, though that might be safest, his granddaughter would never forgive him for it. She had given her love and her loyalty to these Vampires and she would not be willing to walk away from them only to save her own skin. The only other alternative was to wait and see how things played out. Yet, if it came down to it, he would always choose to have her alive and hating him, over the possibility of her dying or being taken away. If it looked like Saoirse would be put in imminent danger, then he would still spirit her away in the blink of an eye, her protests be damned. However, for now he felt that it would be better to accede to her request and allow her to remain.

"Very well." Niall answered after a moment, turning to walk back into the receiving chamber and taking up his chair by the fire. Saoirse followed him but did not sit. Her anxiety over not knowing what was going on in the hall and what would become of Eric would not let her be still. She found the only thing she could do was walk the floor of her chamber over and over again, pausing briefly any time she heard even the smallest noise, and then resuming her nervous movement when it came to nothing.

It did not take many circuits of the floor for Amena to lose her composure. She too was terrified at what might happen but, unlike Niall, who seemed to handle it all with the forbearance of one who was used to patiently waiting for the fight to come to him, Saoirse's nurse could only think of the terrible things that might befall her charge and curse herself for letting it get this far. How many times had she warned Saoirse that he was not worth risking her life and her place here for? How many times, before she'd been sent to sleep with Brynja's maid, had she pleaded with her mistress to take some care for her life and well-being. Feeling the tears start to drop into her lap, Amena simply wept silently as she watched Saoirse pace the floor and Niall study the fire, wondering what she would do when the Vampires came for her little girl.

It went on like that for hours, until Amena finally succumbed to exhaustion and passed out in her chair, the tears still staining her face. By then, Saoirse had walked the room so many times that her feet finally began to pain her. An hour and a half before dawn, when Saoirse had all but given up hope, there was the sound of the outer chamber doors being opened. Rushing out, she saw Halbjorn enter her rooms and gesture wordlessly for her to go back into her receiving chamber.

When Halbjorn had followed her into the room he closed the door behind him. Turning, he saw his Queen, her face a haggard mask of its normal self, the worry and despair clearly etched on her beautiful, young face. Beyond her stood her grandfather, once his most detested enemy, now, he hoped, his most trusted ally in their newfound common cause. Facing his wife once more, Halbjorn opened his arms to her.

Saoirse spared not even a thought before walking gratefully into them and returning his gesture of comfort whole heartedly. Her relief that he was here with her and that he had not abandoned them was almost overwhelming. Halbjorn was always three steps ahead of everyone else and, as she felt him now, giving her a little of his own strength, she prayed that he had some sort of plan, some welcome bit of news to give her. Pulling back from her slightly so that he could see her face, he spoke plainly.

"You must not be frightened, Saoirse. I need you to be brave right now. You will need every bit of your courage for what is ahead and, after all that has happened this night, I could use a bit of your blunt tongue to soothe my own sorrows as well." Halbjorn tried to smile and Saoirse tried to return it, but they both only managed to grimace at each other. Yet even that was a balm to her, as she knew that they suffered because of the same worry.

"What will happen to Eric?" She asked. She knew that she should be worried for herself right now, but she could not bring herself to care about her own fate when she was still here in her lavish, comfortable apartments and the man she loved was chained in silver, no doubt in agony, in the dank dungeon so far below them. Halbjorn did manage to smile this time, even if it was only a sad smile.

"I have come to take you to him. We do not have much time, but I could not risk leaving the Hall any earlier. Come." Saoirse nodded emphatically, her eagerness to see Eric overcoming any other thought until she realized that they could not simply walk out her chamber door. Halbjorn only put his finger over his closed lips in a gesture for her to remain silent as he walked instead to the far wall of her audience chamber and pushed on one of the higher stones along the wall. The stone depressed slightly and Saoirse saw that all the stones along this wall were only a façade and that underneath them was actually a wooden wall, and in that wall was a door that had just popped open with a slight grating sound.

"They are my apartments, you could have at least told me that this was here before!" She said with a tiny bit of indignation. Halbjorn's response was the first hearty laugh he had enjoyed in days.

"And there is the blunt tongue I am so over fond of!" He said as he led her through into the pitch blackness. "They may be your apartments, but it is still my castle, and I reserve the right to be the only one with full knowledge of its secrets. Now, hold tight to my arm: there are no braziers to light the way." They walked what felt like a long and winding path but could have been complete circles for all that Saoirse could see in the pitch blackness of the passage. Finally Halbjorn stopped them again, pressing on what must have been another stone in the wall. A moment later, they walked out of the passage and into a small room with nothing more than a straw pallet in it.

"Where are we?" She asked. Halbjorn opened the door to the room and peered cautiously out into the corridor, before holding out his hand to her to follow him.

"We're in the south tower, but we're also on the ground floor of the castle now. It makes for a handy escape path. There are doors that lead to a little pier about a hundred yards from this room. I have a small boat docked there and the water passage eventually flows out into the river." Once they had left the room, they walked in complete silence through empty corridors. The south tower was almost completely out of use and Saoirse found herself relieved that she did not have to worry about someone catching them, though it did not slow either of their steps down.

The long corridor lead to a winding stone staircase which they took down and, down farther still, until they came to the metal barred entrance to the catacombs beneath the castle, which housed Halbjorn's dungeon. There, just before the bars, were four guards whose duty it was to allow or deny admittance. The men, Weres now that it was so close to dawn, stood straight and tall when they saw who it was that stood before them. Bowing to their King, they quickly opened the gates for them, showing absolutely no sign that they were in the least bit startled or curious to see her with Halbjorn. Either word had not yet reached them of her disgrace, or they simply knew better than to question their monarch about anything he desired.

"I do not desire an escort, only the key to the North man's cell." Was all Halbjorn said in a commanding voice as they passed through the gates. The guard closest to them handed him a set of keys and stepped back hurriedly.

Passing through, Halbjorn made his way with steady strides down the long paths, barely lit by standing braziers that were placed every few feet, while Saoirse tried to stay close behind him. As she looked around her, her mind flashed suddenly to her first night in Upsala when he'd come to her in her new chambers and made their bargain. He had threatened that there was a cell waiting down here for her, if she chose to be foolish and refuse his kindness. The threat had been terrifying even then but now, as she saw what could have been her alternate accommodations, it sent a cold creeping chill up her spine that nearly made her physically shiver. It would not have seemed strange if she had shivered though, since it was nearly glacially cold here in the windowless crypt beneath the fortress. Being so near the moat that surrounded the castle, the walls here were wet with moisture that dripped down and created puddles of scummy water on the slick flagstones. The moisture and lack of ventilation gave the air a staleness that made each breath more unpleasant than the last, and the whole effect was enough to give anyone a sense of deep hopelessness. To die, entombed down here, would be the worst possible end Saoirse could ever imagine for anyone.

The thought of Eric being brought here, being trapped here, made her feel physically ill, and she quickened her step even more, needing more than ever to see him with her own eyes, to put her arms around him, to hold him close and give him some of her own warmth to make up for the warmth he did not have. The compulsion was almost overwhelming in its intensity.

Halbjorn rounded a final corner and at last they saw him there, in the final cell, chained to the wall by silver cuffs at his wrists and ankles. Eric's tunic had been removed and a large silver band, which was also attached to the wall of the cell, was secured around his naked waist. Saoirse could smell the rank odor of his burning flesh right along with the staleness of the air. Taking the key that the guard had given to Halbjorn, she opened it as fast as she could and rushed to Eric.

It was only at the sound of his cell opening that Eric opened his eyes and looked up. Despite the pain of the silver around him, burning into his flesh, he smiled with relieved happiness. The sight of Sookie was like a balm to his soul. He had barely had time to register her presence before she had her arms wrapped around him and her lips began to kiss every square inch of skin that she could reach.

"Oh Eric!" Was all that she could say, as the tears she had wanted so desperately to be able to cry finally came fast and hard.

Halbjorn stood back, as close to the bars as he dared, and allowed Eric and Saoirse to have their moment of reunion. He knew that what he had to tell them both would only bring them more sorrow and he knew that this moment, no matter how small, would help them both to bear what would come next. It was Eric who finally looked up at him, after long moments with his face buried securely in Saoirse's hair.

The look that passed between the King and his fallen Commander was one of complete understanding. Halbjorn might be able to save them both from final death, but there were no miracles on the horizon, no happily ever afters. Eric had made his bed when he'd chosen to act on the love he had for the one woman who was forbidden to him, and now the price for that would have to be paid.

"What will happen?" Was all Eric asked, his voice steady despite the pain of the silver. It was only in his eyes that Halbjorn detected the fear that was eating Eric from the inside. He knew Eric well enough to know that the fear his friend felt was not for himself: it was fear for Saoirse and fear for Halbjorn and for his standing as King. For himself, Halbjorn felt only anger. His own maker had almost never been kind, but his actions had always been predicated on the desire to make Halbjorn and Haldis into Vampires who could survive the tests of time. If his lessons were hard, or even sometimes cruel, they were meant only to teach them to survive in a world which was both hard and cruel.

There were no such honorable intentions behind the actions of Eric's maker. His only concern was for himself, and if in his selfishness Eric's final death or dishonor could bring him some gain, then it seemed of little consequence to Ocella what became of his child. It was despicable in the extreme and, had Halbjorn not already hated Ocella for the many other things that he had done to Eric, his disdain for him would have been written in stone with this one action.

"Ocella declares the supreme right of a maker to his child and demands that I turn you over to him to be taken to Rome for punishment. He also _humbly_ requests that I give him the men and money he and his master have come begging for in repayment of what he sees as my great debt to him." Halbjorn spat the words and, the moment they were out of his mouth, he saw Saoirse cling ever more tightly to Eric.

"No!" She all but screamed, her voice hard and sure, as though the mere strength of her will could keep Eric here with them. Halbjorn walked over to them and placed his hand on Saoirse's shoulder.

"You must listen to me, Saoirse, and do as I say. Nothing will be gained in this by being stubborn or defiant. Right now, we must do whatever is necessary to keep you both safe." He said, looking down on the small girl who trembled with her fear for her love and her white hot rage at his loathsome sire. Looking Eric in the eye as well, Halbjorn took an unnecessary breath and began. "When we return to your apartments, I will speak with Niall. I will ask him, as soon as it is light, to take you away from here. He cannot take you to Ireland - it will be of no use -if I can reach you then I would be honor bound to attempt to do so. I will, instead, bid him to take you to Faery so that there is no chance that you can be got to by any of our kind. Once there, you will be safe. Niall and I will engage in lengthy negotiations and, in the end, I will reluctantly 'settle' for a sum that will make up for his kin's dishonoring of my house." Saoirse only began to shake her head, but Halbjorn's look stopped her from protesting any further. "It must be done for the sake of appearance, but if the sum should never reach me, that will be between the two of us. Eric, I will stall Antonius and Ocella from returning to Rome for as long as I can. I do not know how yet, but I will find a way to keep them from taking you. For the moment though, it must look as though I am acceding to their requests. If I do not then they will have cause to question my fitness to rule."

Eric's only response was a nod of his head. He cared not whether he had to return to Appius. If his maker wanted him, Appius would find a way to have him, this much he already knew. His only concern was that Sookie be kept safe from danger. As long as he could be sure she was alright, he would endure whatever he had to.

"There is not much more time before dawn, but I will wait just down the hall so that you may say your goodbyes." They both nodded at him and he left the cell, giving them all the privacy he could to say the things they would not want to say in front of anyone else, even a friend.

"Sookie, look at me." Eric said, his voice soft now, entreating her to focus on his face and not on the deep, bleeding wounds that seeped from his body.

"Oh God, Eric, how can this be happening?" Sookie sobbed, through a fresh well of tears. It seemed that now that they had started, they would not stop.

"Sookie, please do not cry, I cannot bear to see your tears. Do as Halbjorn asks: it is for the best." Despite the pain of the bonds, he welcomed the feeling of his Sookie pressing herself ever closer to him. He reveled in the way her heat and softness caressed his hard coldness and in the way her scent was clinging to him even now. It would give him something to hold on to when she left.

"No! I won't leave you to that…that _monster_!" She said, the steel in her voice overcoming her sorrow. Looking up at him though, she saw that he would not let her disagree with Halbjorn.

"You will. Sookie, there is nothing that you can do for me. Appius is my maker, and if he desires me to return with him, then I must do so. It is not a choice. But I am not afraid and I am not weak! I will survive anything that my maker has in store for me. I have before and I will again… now all the more so. When my maker took me and ended my Human life, he took everything from me: my home, my family and my children, who needed me then more than ever. I had nothing to exist for and, in the beginning, I prayed every night that he might finally become so angry with me and my defiance that he would lose his patience and simply end me. He never did, but with each defiance he punished me more and more severely and he took pleasure in my suffering. Now…now I have something worth living for, something to hold on to, something worth enduring whatever he has in store for me, so that I may return to it. I have you, and you are worth any pain. You must do as Halbjorn commands and let Niall take you away. When my maker has tired of toying with me, he will release me again and I will find a way to re-unite us. This I swear to you, on our love." His words were so filled with conviction that they were easy to believe. But, even if he could endure the tortures his maker would no doubt put him through, she could not.

The thought of their separation was bad enough, but to know that he would be hurt, that his maker would delight in causing him to suffer, it made her want to kick and scream and find something sharp to run through Ocella's worthless, shriveled heart. If only she could. If only the entire west wing of the castle was not guarded like a precious trove of gold each day, she would do it!

"Promise me! Promise me, as you did the night before you rode to meet Freyda, promise me that you will return to me just as you did then!" She begged him, her arms still tight around him as though, if she held him hard enough, they might meld into a single being and therefore never be parted.

"If only Niall had a potion that might solve this problem as well." He tried to laugh but the motion caused the skin of his torso to rub against the silver banding and instead it came out as a low hiss of pain. Seeing the smoke coming up from his skin, Sookie did the only thing that she could to ease his pain. Pulling away, she ripped the fur lining from her sleeves and the collar of her dress and began to tuck them in between Eric's skin and the silver. Her hands came away covered in his blood but she didn't care.

"Does it help?" She asked, winding her arms back around him.

"It no longer burns. Thank you love." He said, letting out an unneeded breath as the pain at his wrists and stomach lessened. Just then, Halbjorn appeared at the cell door.

"Saoirse, it is nearly dawn. We must go." He said. Turning back to Eric one last time, she reached up on her toes and kissed him. With his hands bound straight out at his sides, he could not bend over and he was simply too tall for her to reach his lips as she so desperately wanted to, so she settled for the hollow juncture where his collar bones met.

"I love you! I will be waiting for you. Do not forget it!" She said, looking into his eyes and willing him to hold her image in his heart until they could see each other again.

"You are my life. There is nothing and no one that can ever make me anything but yours. We will see each other again, and when we do there will be nothing to keep us apart. Go now and never doubt my love." Eric placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head and watched as Halbjorn took her from the cell.

The dawn was coming fast and he could feel himself already succumbing to its pull. But before he would let the rays of the sun pull him under, he sent up a prayer to his Gods. He had not spoken to them much in the last almost three centuries, but he hoped now that they would hear him and look down on him with favor. He was still a mighty warrior and he was still one of their own. He prayed now for them to protect his love and to give him the strength to survive all that was coming. He would endure anything if only he could see her face again, if only he knew that she awaited him as a reward for his suffering. Only please keep her safe, he beseeched them, over and over again, as the magic that animated him left his body for yet another day.


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N: Phew! Returned from the hinterlands! It's so fabulous to be back in civilization! I missed you all so much! I'm so, so sorry that I couldn't give you guys an update last week. Switzerland isn't the back of beyond or anything but the landlords of the apartment we rented for our stay didn't want to share their internet connection, so in the end I was forcibly unplugged, we almost drove our car off the side of an Alp though, so you know, that kind of put things in perspective for me for the rest of the trip. Anyway, thank you guys so much for waiting so long for this chapter! Here it is the big climax. There's one more chapter after this one where Eric and Sookie start their HEA and we follow them into the future and then that's it!_

_As always I have to thank my beta, Sheknitsnicely, who's so fabu there aren't words for it and all of you reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting! Y'all Rock!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing… _

The sky had already begun to lighten from a deep, rich navy to a gentle purple, shot through with streaks of crimson, when Halbjorn and Saoirse re-emerged from the hidden passage into her receiving chamber. Halbjorn had not fully secured the secret door when Niall was upon them, sweeping Saoirse up into his arms and holding her tightly, the fear he had harbored that she might not return apparent in the troubled lines etched across his face.

As Niall held his granddaughter, he shared a significant look with the Vampire to whom he had given her. These many long decades they had been the bitterest of enemies, their only shared desire a wish to see the other completely vanquished and driven from existence; yet here they stood, over the head of a small girl, suddenly the unlikeliest of allies, brought together by their love of one tiny, ephemeral Human.

"You must take her to Faery with all haste. It is the only place where she will be safe." Halbjorn said, though he suspected that Niall had already come to that conclusion on his own.

"I will, as soon as the sun is fully up." Came the Fairy High King's reply. The two men nodded to each other uncomfortably, the plan settled between them, when Saoirse's head rose from Niall's chest.

"No, we cannot leave then." She said, causing both men to stare at her. "My Lord, I do not expect you to be well acquainted with the daytime routines of the castle, but we cannot leave then. In an hour the chamber maids will come to strip and replace the bed linens and, shortly after that, the servants of the kitchen will come to serve me breakfast. They will know right away if we have fled." Turning to Niall, she entreated him. "We should not leave until after breakfast. Normally I would begin receiving courtiers and visitors after breakfast, but since I am…under arrest, no one will come. There will be the longest gap of time between breakfast and the noontime meal. We should leave then." Niall and Halbjorn again shared a heavy gaze between them, but agreed that Saoirse's plan was the wisest. The longer before it was suspected she had fled the castle, the more time before his Human and Were guards would set on her trail.

"Very well, child, we will wait." Niall said, petting her hair in a calming manner. Saoirse thanked her grandfather quickly before turning pleading eyes on her husband.

"My Lord, you have been nothing but good to me since the moment I set foot in your land. I can do naught but thank you for all that you have given to me and all that you have shown me and, if I had a God to pray to, I would ask that he keep you safe and set you long to rule." The words were formal in the extreme, but Saoirse knew no other way to express to this man the deep respect that she had for him and the well of gratitude that she felt for the way he had treated her, for the friendship and respect he had shown her, and for the compassion and kindness that he had granted her and Eric.

She still feared for her love more than she could express, but she knew that, if there was any way at all to keep Eric from being taken by Appius, Halbjorn would find it. Their love of Eric, though different in nature, was a binding force between them.

For his part, Halbjorn found himself without words for the first time in many, many centuries. That everything had fallen so spectacularly apart was not the fault of the small and fragile, yet brave, woman before him and he blamed her for nothing. He had known for a very long time what she and Eric were to each other and, having been so newly reawakened to the strength and power of love himself, he could not see fit to deny them the right to the same. One did not choose where to love; only to be brave enough to accept the choices that fate had made for them.

"I wish you a safe journey, my Lady. I do not think we shall ever see each other again, but I know that I will think of you often." Halbjorn finally replied with equal formality, happy that, in this moment when the emotions that overwhelmed him were so alien to his nature, she had, as she always did, understood and allowed him to fall back on something as familiar as courtly words. Saoirse's reply was a beautiful smile and then a whispered request.

"My Lord, may I ask of you one more small thing?" Came her tentative voice. Halbjorn nodded in response. "My Lord, will you allow Brynja to come to me one last time so that I might say goodbye?" This time Halbjorn's face broke into a small, sad smile. His love would be stricken when she found out what had happened, if she did not already know. He would not deny the two friends a last chance to say goodbye.

"I will send her to you." He said, clasping Saoirse's hand one last time and making a small gesture of acknowledgement to Niall before departing through her chamber doors.

.oO~*~Oo.

Amena had just gone down to the kitchen to help the servants bring up breakfast when it happened. It started with a single cry that rang through the air, rending the morning's sad peace - the sound of one of the day guards of the outer tower taking an arrow through his chain mail - but by the time Saoirse and Niall had identified the noise, it had grown into something far worse.

The castle was under siege. From her window, Saoirse could see the courtyard below…she could see the Humans, armed to the teeth, with bloody murder in their eyes and thoughts, streaming into the Keep and fighting with the Human guards and the Weres who had already transformed themselves. Niall's hand on Saoirse's arm pulled her away from the window, even as a volley of arrows assaulted the inner walls of the castle.

"Come, we are leaving now!" He said, without another moment's hesitation. But before he could envelope them in his light, Saoirse pulled away.

"No, we cannot! The castle is being attacked!" She replied, her mind a blur of terrified emotions that were quickly distilling down to one solitary thought.

"Yes, all the more reason why we must leave!" Niall said, not understanding what held her back.

"Eric!" She said the one word as if it explained everything. Niall tried to hold his patience even as he heard the sound of the inner doors to the Keep being breached from the courtyard below.

"Saoirse, I know that you love him. I am sorry, but there is no time. If he were here now, he would want me to take you away to safety. Come, we must go!" Niall again tried to take her hand, but again she pulled away before he could. She wished now that she had told Niall everything before, if only to save them the precious minutes it would take to explain it.

"Grandfather, you must listen to me! We cannot leave without him. Ceiridywn, she gave us a gift before she returned to you. She has joined our life forces together. If Eric dies in this siege, then I will die too, no matter how far away you take me." Saoirse saw the light of comprehension dawn in Niall's eyes, followed quickly by a look of complete and total rage. Yet she did not care. She had not told him because she feared for her life or for her death, but rather because, even if she and Eric had not been joined as they were, a single day upon this earth, knowing that he no longer walked it, would have been her death anyway.

His anger still all but overwhelming him, Niall drew a dagger from his belt and threw it to Saoirse. Walking over to the doors, he wrenched them open, seeing that the guards who had been there before had no doubt abandoned their posts to go and help in the fight, or perhaps to flee.

"Come, we cannot take the passage: I cannot see in the dark any better than you. We will have to fight our way down. Keep behind me and, if the need arises, do not think, simply use the knife!" Niall ordered her, stepping out into the corridor.

The long halls were all but deserted until they reached the ground level of the castle. There the fray was in full force, the guards of the castle fighting with all their might against what looked as though it might have been an entire city of people. As Niall pushed through, swinging his sword this way and that to clear a path for them, Saoirse saw with shock that the invading masses were all dressed in the fashion of the Knights Templar, with long white robes, emblazoned with the sign of the cross, over their chain mail: the army of the Christian God's Pope!

After what seemed, to Saoirse, like an endless succession of adversaries, which Niall left bloody and broken in his wake, they reached the winding staircase that led down to the dank, lightless catacombs. Saoirse called out the way to Niall, directing him through one turn after another until they reached the dungeon. Here as well, the guards had abandoned their post, no doubt feeling that, of all the members of the castle household, the prisoners held here were owed the least protection.

Snatching the keys to the iron gate where they still hung, Saoirse opened it quickly and she and Niall ran down the dank, slippery corridor to the final cell. When she saw Eric, the only thing Saoirse could do was cry out in relief. He was there still, slumped over slightly, his head falling on his chest, his hair covering it like a curtain as he stood, still chained to the wall, in his daytime death.

Opening the cell door, Saoirse rushed to him, trying desperately to unlock the bindings that held him to the wall, as Niall kept watch. It was her angry scream of frustration that brought Niall's attention from the still empty hall to his granddaughter as she tried in vain to reach the locks that secured the bindings on her Vampire's wrists. Holding his sword up high, he motioned for Saoirse to get out of the way.

"Keep watch!" He instructed her as his sword fell down heavily on the cuff that held Eric's left wrist. There was a loud clanging noise, followed by the sputtering of sparks as metal made contact with metal, and then Eric's wrist fell free. Just as Niall raised his sword to swing again, Saoirse saw a movement from down the dimly lit corridor.

"Grandfather hurry! They're coming!" She yelled at him, though her voice did not rise above a whisper. Niall nodded in acknowledgement, though he never took his eyes from his task. Seeing the men coming closer, Saoirse knew what she needed to do. Hiding in the farthest corner of the cell, where no light penetrated, she waited.

Just as Niall had separated Eric from the last binding, Eric's unconscious form falling heavily onto him as he struggled to bring the lifeless body to the ground with some care, one of the invaders burst through the open cell door.

There was murder in his eyes as he looked at the seemingly old man trying to save the unconscious Vampire, and Saoirse could see clearly in his mind what he wanted to do to them both, a sickening barrage of images filled with severed, burning limbs; but he never got the chance to say a word. Bursting from the shadow, the dagger Niall had given her drawn and ready, Saoirse plunged it into the man's exposed neck, ending his life in a spurt of blood and a soundless cry.

Niall's only response, as Saoirse pulled her dagger from the man's gushing artery, was a nod of approval and a glint of pride in his eyes. Rushing over to him as he knelt, taking off his cloak and wrapping it securely around Eric's prone form, she reached out to take the hand that he offered, but then held it back.

"What about the others?" She asked suddenly, now that Eric was out of the most immediate danger. Niall looked at her with an expression that she had never seen on his face before. In front of her now was not her loving grandfather, or even the stern Prince of his people. Before her now was the commander of men, a being used to making decisions about who would live and who would die, and who no longer gave those decisions sway over his conscience.

"We cannot save them, Saoirse. You have your man, and that only because of this thing Ceiridwyn has done. Otherwise I never would have risked the journey down here for a Vampire, no matter what you felt for him. Now we must go!" Saoirse could only shake her head. No, she could not leave her friends here to die. She could not abandon them to their fates when she might help. Wallace! The face of her friend appeared in her mind. He was down here somewhere! Even if she could not save the others, she might still be able to get to him!

Pulling away, even as Niall yelled at her to return, Saoirse ran out of the cell only to be greeted by a sight even more fearful than that of the men who had besieged the castle: a yellow wall of flame, hot and bright, beginning to envelope the corridor from which they had come, the only exit back up to the light of the day. Seeing it, Saoirse stopped dead in her tracks, screaming, and was immediately dragged back into the cell by Niall, who all but threw her on top of Eric's wrapped body. Her last words before he enveloped them in his light were a plea.

"Please! Please…the forest just beyond the city!"

.oO~*~Oo.

As the sun dropped below the western horizon, Sookie sat on the soft ground of the forest floor, keeping vigil over the mound where she and Niall had buried Eric. The smoke from the city a few miles distant still billowed out, making a foul smelling mist that seemed to encircle everything for miles around the remains of Upsala.

She did not know for how many hours they had stayed like this: she nearly numb, her only emotion a low swirling dread that would not leave her, and Niall tense, sword drawn, ready to defend them from the Humans she felt sure might come out of the trees at any moment to finish what they had started.

The inky darkness was both a shroud from the eyes of the Christians who wanted them dead and also an enemy, robbing them of sight and forewarning. She surmised that it could not have been full dark for long when the ground next to her began to move. Eric's hand came first, breaking through the shallow grave they had hastily made for him. Taking it in her grasp, she helped as much as she could as he burst through the earth, confused, wary and angry.

Niall made no move to help her, keeping his sword drawn and his guard up at all times as he faced the direction of the city. When Eric finally pulled completely from the ground, he took in his surroundings all at once: Sookie's obvious fear, Niall's fighting stance, the swirling smoky mist.

"What has happened?" He asked, his voice betraying each of his emotions with only those few words.

"The Christians, they burned the temple, and then they stormed the castle. They tried to murder us all, and while they did so the rest of the city caught fire. Everything is…gone." She said, speaking for the first time since she had yelled at Niall to help her bury her love before the sun took him.

At first Eric was not sure he had understood her. He knew they were speaking the same language but, as in a dream, her words made no sense to him. The city had burned, the temple was gone, the castle attacked… how could all this be?

"Where are the others?" He asked, fearing he already knew the answer. Sookie only shook her head.

"I…I don't know. There was no time. Niall and I, we had only enough time to get to you and then he brought us here." Sookie had barely finished answering him when she began to see shadows coming upon them from the direction of the city.

Still confused, Eric turned towards the oncoming figures, crouching down next to Niall, taking up a defensive posture; ready, even without a weapon, to defend her.

As the figures grew closer, they saw that the attack they had been waiting for was not coming. Instead she saw the figures of perhaps twenty Vampires, survivors from the castle, leaving the city. With the setting of the sun, the Humans had no doubt given up their craven attack, understanding that they would have no chance against the Vampires once they awoke.

Sookie craned her neck from side to side, trying to see who they were. Some of them she knew, some she did not; but just as she had given up all hope, she saw a last figure coming through the mist. Halbjorn, carrying a heavy metal coffin that appeared warped from the heat of a fire.

Without a word spoken to each other, Eric and Sookie both rushed to him, Eric helping him set down the coffin. Resting it on the soft grass, the two Vampires worked together to open it. Sookie let out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding when she saw the figure of Wallace inside, still bound in silver, but alive nonetheless.

Pushing Eric and the still stunned Halbjorn aside, she began to pull the chains off of Wallace and watched as he returned to a weak consciousness.

"Are there any other survivors?" Eric said, his voice sounding so weak, so bewildered, so completely alien. Halbjorn shook his head as he held out his arm, helping Wallace from the prison which had, in the end, saved his life.

"No. There is no one else. I have searched. Wallace was spared because the lid of his prison was no doubt too heavy for the humans to lift, and I because…." Halbjorn's voice trailed off and, for the first time, Eric noticed that there were long red streaks staining his face, running down and ruining the fine cloth of his tunic.

The thought dawned on Sookie with a sickening twist of her gut. Turning to Halbjorn, looking past him once more, she tried desperately to see through the darkness, hoping that just one more figure would come out of the mist.

"Halbjorn, where is Brynja?" She asked, the words sticking in her throat. At her question, she heard the soul deep cry of anguish that broke from his lips. Sinking to his knees, his head held in his hands, they watched in horror as their King sobbed openly, any pretense of strength completely gone from him. "My Lord, please, where is she?" Sookie asked again, the panic rising in her voice.

"She's…she's…." The words would not come. He could not speak them, though he knew he had to. Looking up at his wife, at his Commander and friend, at the remains of his subjects, he forced himself to say what had just begun to sink into his mind now that the immediate danger was over. "She is dead." He whispered. "I found her body, lying over mine. She staunched the flames in my apartments so I would not burn, but the air was not breathable." At that, the last of Halbjorn's strength left him and he fell to the forest floor, openly weeping.

Whatever reserves of strength had helped Sookie through the ordeal of the day left her then. Falling to her knees, she brought the broken form of her King into her arms as they wept together for the woman they had both loved, each in their own way.

"What of the others? Haldis? Antonious? His people?" It was Wallace who spoke this time, his voice a weak echo of what it had always been as his body struggled to recover from the silver he had just been released from.

At first there was no answer, but then one of the Vampires who had joined them in the woods spoke. He was one of Eric and Wallace's men, and his voice was bristling with a barely restrained bloodlust.

"They are all dead. The FUCKING Humans have done it. We must go back and slaughter them all." The Vampire's words seemed to ignite a fury among the other survivors and it was only then that Halbjorn seemed to recover himself. Putting Sookie to one side of him and rising to his full height, the tears that stained his face made him look that much more garishly fearsome.

"No!" He said, steady, sure, his voice almost filled with its usual commanding vigor. All eyes were on him now, and not a pair among them were filled with anything other than astonishment. They knew him, all of them, either as King or friend or husband or enemy, and his command was shocking to each and every one of them.

"No, my Lord?" The Vampire who had called for blood asked, his hatred momentarily waylaid by Halbjorn's unexpected reply.

"No. There are only a handful of us. We might kill many, but we would no doubt be slaughtered ourselves. We have survived for a reason: I must believe that. I will not return only to let the Humans finish their work. I order you, as your King, to disband. Find shelter, keep safe, regain your strength. This is not over. We will have our vengeance, but it cannot be tonight." Sookie watched as his words penetrated the minds of each Vampire. They were still shocked, but he was their King; he had long ago earned their trust and respect and they would not defy him.

One by one, the Vampires melted into the trees, disappearing from view, until there was no one left except for Halbjorn, Eric, Wallace, Niall and herself. They looked at each other for long moments, the gravity of what had happened laying on them as an oppressive weight.

"Will you gather an army?" It was Eric who asked it, his voice empty, almost a stranger to Sookie's ears. Looking first to him and then to Halbjorn, what she saw frightened her more than she could ever have imagined.

"No. This is over. Most of our men are finally dead, Antonious is dead and the majority his men as well. Does Ocella live?" All eyes turned once more to Eric, and Sookie saw him close his eyes as though trying to find something deep within himself, something she realized almost immediately was not there.

He had not even thought about it. It had been less than an hour since he'd risen, and that time had been filled with the deepest upheaval of his world since he had been turned. His maker had been the farthest person from his thoughts. Those that he loved, those that remained; Sookie, Wallace, Halbjorn; they had taken up all the thoughts he could spare. Now, as he closed his eyes, his mind turned inwards to that place deep in his soul that was still connected to the Vampire who had given him immortality. The answer was there in the utter emptiness that greeted him. In the terror and confusion of the day only the few who had someone that cared for them had survived and there was no one who would have given Ocella's life even a single thought.

"No. I feel nothing from him. He has met his end." Sookie felt herself fall back on to her knees when Eric spoke. She felt nothing but elation at the knowledge that Eric's maker was no more. The man, the Vampire… the monster that had made him would have separated them, would have taken Eric away from her. He did not care that they loved each other, that they were joined together, bonded by love and life force. To him, Eric had been nothing more than an object, his object to dispose of as he pleased. It was better that he was finally dead. As much as she had never thought she would be able to revel in the demise of another, she was happy he was finally dead. In all the bad that had happened, there was at least this one thing to be grateful for.

Halbjorn's only response was a nod of his head; anything else required more energy than he could muster. Antonious had been right. The Humans would no longer tolerate the presence of the supernatural in their world. Anything that did not fit their world view would be eradicated. Had Upsala been a unique incident or had it happened everywhere? Antonious, ruler of a third of the Vampire world, was dead. Did Sa'ida still live, or had it occurred in Spain too? Even if it had not occurred anywhere else, their world would be in chaos now.

"Then it is truly over." All eyes once again focused on Halbjorn. "Wallace, I release you from my service." When Wallace would have protested, Halbjorn laid a heavy hand on him, shaking his head and letting his lieutenant know that there would be no argument. Turning his head, he looked at Eric: his commander, his friend, the son he always wished he might have had, had his Human life not ended the way it did. "Eric, before I release you, I charge you with one final task." Eric straightened himself, looking down on his King with all the reverence and respect that had built between them these many decades, waiting for his Lord's order. "You will take her Majesty far from here and guard her with your existence for the remainder of her life."

This moment should have been filled with joy. They were free, Halbjorn was releasing them, giving them the right to be together forever. But it was not. It was clouded with pain and loss and, if it could have been different, if it could have brought back Brynja and Amena and Haldis and all the others who had died this day without even the ability to defend themselves, Sookie would have gladly given up her own happiness.

"What of you, my Lord?" Sookie asked, a ripping pain beginning to form in her chest as she realized the implications of what he was doing. Looking at his wife, he tried to find the last remnants of a smile, something to give her the reassurance he felt sure she needed. But in the end it would have been false comfort. He had given her over to the man she loved, it was the only thing he could do for the woman he had come respect so greatly in so short a time. Looking to the east sky, still inky black with night, he made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"I will go to my love. There is nowhere else for me anymore." She had known those words were coming, and yet her cry of pain was genuine. Rushing to him once more, she found herself throwing her arms around him, crying, pleading for him not end himself. He made no move to comfort her or return her embrace. Instead he only stood, taking her with him and handing her to Eric.

"She is yours now." Halbjorn said, his mind already thinking of things beyond this world.

They sat there, in the woods, watching the smoke from the city clear, for the better part of the night, until the sky began to lighten. When it did, Wallace stood first, taking Sookie in a gentle embrace, and then sharing a look of deep meaning with his two comrades before taking off through the woods, putting as much distance between himself and the city as the rapidly lighting sky would allow.

Eric stood next. He tried several times to find the words to tell Halbjorn all that was in his heart, but emotions had never come easy to him, not even with Sookie and certainly not with his King. Instead the two Vampires clasped each other strongly, a look of deep affection passing between them, filling the void of the words neither could say. When Halbjorn released him, Eric turned to Sookie, taking her in his arms and kissing her softly.

"Wrap yourself in the cloak, Vampire. I will take you and my granddaughter to safety." Niall said, unexpectedly. Eric and Sookie both turned to him, the shock evident on their faces. Niall said nothing in response, only held out the mud stained garment that they had buried Eric in earlier that day.

Wrapping himself tightly, Eric lay down on the ground, knowing that when the sun fully rose he would not be able to stand. Sookie watched as Niall bent over the form of her love, making sure that every part of his skin was covered, taking care with him for her sake. Turning to Halbjorn, she embraced him one last time.

"Halbjorn, please, you need not do this. You could...come with us, please?" She asked one last time. This time Halbjorn returned her embrace, holding her firmly for one moment before releasing her so that she might see his eyes and know that he desired this.

If this had happened even a scant decade ago, he would have fought. He would have gathered what was left of his people and brought a vengeance down upon the Humans which their histories would not soon let them forget. But now, after so many years of endless war, after seeing the lives of so many extinguished without thought or care, without the one being who had brought light into his world, he simply had no taste for it… for any of it. The exhaustion that he had felt creeping up on him when Antonious had come to his door, now seemed to envelop him whole, robbing him of the will to move even an inch further in this world.

"My place is with Brynja. It has been since the moment I saw her. She is waiting for me, I know it." With that, he placed a soft kiss on both of her cheeks and turned, walking, without a glance back, into the rising sun.

The tears coursed down Sookie's face as she felt Niall pull her back to the spot where Eric lay wrapped up, his body already succumbing to the coming dawn. Pulling her down as gently as he could so that they were both leaning over Eric, Niall held one of her hands and put the other to Eric's chest.

As Niall's magic enveloped them, Sookie looked one last time to the figure of her husband. For a single instant he was a bright blazing star, an inferno of light touching the forest floor, and then they were all gone. Eric and Sookie with Niall, and Halbjorn to the mysterious afterward where Sookie could only pray Brynja was standing watch, waiting for her love.


	25. Chapter 25

_A/N: Oh my gosh! The last chapter! I'm not exactly sure what to say except thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story. I never thought anyone would even want to read it and it's the most successful story I've ever written. I just don't have the words to express my gratitude for that. Thank you, thank you, thank you!_

_So this chapter is actually two. I wrote the epilogue first, but my wonderful beta, Sheknitsnicely, (who always keeps me straight) told me I couldn't put all of us through all this and not have at least one happily ever after lemon- so I wrote the last chapter. I thought I would leave it at that but my dear friend Chipndalegal told me she wanted to see the epilogue too, so here you are a final chapter and an epilogue all rolled into one! I hope it's a satisfying wrap up. Thank you all so much again!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing…_

The sensation of soft lips peppering their way across his body was the first thing he felt as life returned to him. They danced across his skin, stopping to tease his mouth, to trace the shell of his ear. A sweet tongue joined them to taste the column of his neck, leaving a trail of wetness to his collar bone that made him groan in unexpected desire.

Next came the feeling of two small but determined hands running along his sides, fingers drawing patterns of sweet delight around his nipples and then wandering lower to loosen the bindings of his pants, the only clothing he still wore. As he lay there, his eyes still closed, he let the scent of his woman, the most intoxicating woman he had ever known, surround and envelope him as her soft body roused him in the most gratifying way. She was sunlight and jasmine and oranges and heaven itself and, as her small body pressed against his, as her delicate, questing fingers found their way into his now open pants, teasing, caressing and enticing his quickly hardening flesh, he felt himself lost to the pure power she had over him; lost to the love she commanded in him, lost to the life she now shared with him, lost to anything but Sookie and the need to express, in this way, the deep abiding wonder he felt that they still lived.

Opening his eyes he found her naked, her long, golden hair twisted to rest over one shoulder, hiding one breast even as she bared the other sweet swell to his gaze, her eyes focused solely on him as she sat astride him, her heated center pressing down on him, telling him in no uncertain terms what she desired. When she saw that he had risen, she smiled at him in a way that was almost worshipful.

"I have been watching you sleep. I have been trying to tell myself that I should be grieving for all that was lost last night, but try as I might, I cannot make my heart do anything but cry for joy that you are still alive." Her words were whispered, as though she worried he might scold her or think her reaction wrong. Vaulting up, so that she now sat on his lap as he embraced her, pressing her to him, crushing her body against his, he kissed her hair, her eyes, her nose and finally her lips, full and long.

"There will be time enough to remember our friends and to honor them. But for right now, we are alive, we are together and, for the first time, we are free to love each other. Love me Sookie. Give thanks with me that fate has found one good thing in all the bad." After that there were no words for a long time, only the joy of their bodies twining together and a happiness that seemed infinite in its depth.

With a cry of delighted surprise, he felt her push him back down to the pillows, her hands taking hold of his now open pants and ridding him of them. He looked up at her, so beautiful and half wild in her desire, and he felt his need for her become an unbearable thing.

As though sensing his quickly lessening control, she leaned down where she kneeled between his now naked legs and began to lick and suck a trail from the underside of his knee, up his thigh and to his stomach, stopping to kiss and caress the indentation of his muscles and to let her hands run through the sparse golden trail of hair that led down to juncture of his thighs.

Eric watched it all through slitted eyes, his hands losing their battle to remain still and, as she finally took mercy on him and let her tongue sweep out to tease the tip of his now dripping cock, tangling into her long hair, not forcing or directing, but merely stroking and petting, begging and thanking all at the same time.

Her eyes met his one last time: her aster gaze telegraphing her need to take him, her compulsion to feel him inside her in every way, to assure herself that this was not a dream, that they had survived and that nothing stood between them now.

Her eyes never left his as her head lowered and the sweet, warm heat of her mouth engulfed him. It drove away the thought of anything else but this. His ability to think receded as she moved her lips up and down his shaft, letting her tongue tease and torment his length as he felt her teeth gently nip at his head when she met it at the top of her strokes.

It took only moments before Sookie began to moan, the taste of him, as ever, driving her into a frenzy, making her need more: more of his body, more of his heart, more of his soul. They had joined together in so many ways and yet, it was never enough. When she felt him begin to swell in her mouth, the sure sign that he was reaching his pleasure, she pulled back. For one long moment, Sookie stared at him, thinking Eric's face had never been as divinely beautiful as it was in this moment as he reached, almost sightlessly, for the release she had nearly given him. He was so lost in their pleasure that he was blind and deaf to anything but attaining the peak they both so desperately desired. Finally, she took mercy on him…on herself, and moved up to sit astride him.

Their eyes met again and their gazes locked as she took hold of him and brought their bodies together, the soft, wet heat of her still tight sex enveloping him as they cried out in unison. Bringing his hands up to grasp her own, Eric watched in stunned bliss as his beautiful Fairy began to ride him, moving up and down on his aching member and bringing them to an ecstasy he had feared they might never share again.

Holding her hands and her gaze, he began to move underneath her, meeting her body halfway as it rose and fell over his own and, when their joint release was nearly upon them, he squeezed their clasped hands and made the one request he had wanted to make more than any other since the moment he had laid eyes on her. He asked for the one desire he had never let himself give voice to before, but that he had dreamed of almost as much as he had dreamed of being inside her.

"Sookie, bite me, please. Take my blood." He groaned, his hands dropping hers and taking her waist, helping her move up and down on him, his body again moving to sit up so that his fangs could nestle themselves in her sweet, soft flesh.

There was no answer to his question, but as Eric pulled her close, his nose buried in her hair and his mouth seeking out the perfect place to strike, he felt it: the dull, unutterably exquisite pain of her blunt, little teeth breaking his skin. It was all he could do to close the circle between them and drink from her as well before they both fell over the edge, their bodies pumping into each other, their minds lost in mutual pleasure.

As they clung to each other in the aftermath, he half sitting and half lying on the bed, his back against the heavy, ornate wooden head board, and she still astride him, her breasts crushed against his torso, her head nestled securely on the hard plains of his chest, right over his unbeating heart, he tried to find the words to express to her all that he felt inside.

He knew that the shock would soon wear off for both of them and they would be left to face the aftermath of what had happened. He knew that there were still so many things that might go wrong. Ireland seemed safe and yet, if the Humans could strike at Upsala, they could strike anywhere. He knew that, simply because they had survived once, it did not mean that they would be so lucky again. These things made him wary. They roused in him the need to protect and to shelter her, to hide her away so that the world could not touch them. But, more than anything, they roused in him the need to find every last bit of joy in the world and to hold it close; to live in that joy with Sookie and make every moment they might have left count for something.

They would morn their friends. They would honor their deaths and remember their lives: these things were not a question. Yet as they lay there, calm and sated, he knew that his happiness required that he ask one more thing of her, and he hoped that her happiness would require her to agree.

"Marry me." He whispered into her hair as he leaned down ever so slightly and kissed her golden head. Sookie moved not a bit, but he felt her hands squeeze him where they rested on his upper arms. Her voice was soft but sure as she answered him.

"Yes." It was one word, but it made his heart swell and he thought his happiness might actually make it beat again. The blood she had taken from him whispered that she too was happy, surprised perhaps that he had asked it so suddenly, but happy nonetheless; happy and deeply in love.

.oO~*~Oo.

The breeze off the ocean was clear and cool as they assembled on the moonlit beach. The nobles of Niall's court created a ring of people, each with a brightly colored lantern in their hand, Ceiridwyn holding the small bundle of her new baby boy, the last Prince of the Fae, securely in her arms and Niall standing at the point where the ocean met the sand.

Slowly, they walked the length of the beach to the exact spot where she had first seen him, where she had found him in what seemed as though it had been another life. The crowd of Fairies parted for them as they stopped before Niall, Eric with the jeweled knife in his hands and Sookie holding a tiny, ornately carved box, and kneeling in the cooling sand. Looking down on the couple before him, the High King held up his hands and began reciting the words, in his native tongue, that had bound his people together in love for millennia.

Niall looked now between his granddaughter and her chosen one, and felt as though something momentous was happening. The world was again in upheaval: the Humans rooting the supernatural from within their midst, one race dying out after another; and yet here on this beach, in his beloved home, his granddaughter, a mostly Human Fairy Princess, joined in love with a Vampire.

It was a strange ending to all the war and all the death and all the pain that had been their lives for centuries now and yet, for it all to end this way gave him a kind of hope that there was more in the world than hate and murder and that love could sprout and flourish under even the most unexpected circumstances. He had never wanted to see Saoirse with a Vampire. The mere thought of it would have been absurd, preposterous, even offensive to him not so long ago, and yet he felt again that little twist in his stomach, the same one that he had felt the night he'd allowed Ceannaideach to convince him of the necessity of sending her to Halbjorn. That small feeling deep inside him that whispered that he was now no longer in control of destiny but merely a messenger of a pre-ordained fate.

As the lilting words of ceremony fell from his lips, he saw his beloved child smile into the face of her love and watched as he smiled back. He could not deny that their golden beauty was unparalleled, each complimenting and completing the other as they knelt in their matching garments of gold and ivory silk. She would be safe with him, he had already proven himself in that regard, and she would be loved by him; for an old man who had lost so many and so much there was nothing more that he could ask for, nothing that would bring him greater peace.

As the last words were spoken, Eric lifted the knife he held, which Saoirse had entrusted Niall to give to him that very night as soon as the sun fell, and gave it to her. Niall watched as she accepted it and kissed its tip before slicing her finger and then his own with it. As each tasted the single drop of each other's blood, they bound themselves to each other in the way of Eric's people, and when she handed him the small box, a symbol of a Fairy's eternal devotion, entrusted with one wish that could only be used by the giver's beloved, they joined in the way of Niall's people. As the sound of the astonishingly genuine cheers of the crowd before them signaled the end of the ceremony, Niall dashed the single tear that slipped from his eye and watched as his granddaughter and her Vampire sealed their union with a gentle kiss.

Epilogue

1913 A.D.

The Coronia Ocean Liner on the Atlantic between London and New York City

Sookie stood on the prow of the boat, looking over at the beautiful blue ocean waves as the boat sliced between them, cutting a path in the waning afternoon sunlight. Her excitement, at being carried once again on the crystal waves of water made her feel heady, as though she'd indulged in too much good wine. It seemed, no matter how many times she sailed or what she sailed on, the beauty of the ocean and the peace of the silent waves never failed to enthrall and invigorate her.

She admitted wholeheartedly that this journey, aboard this modern metal behemoth, was very different from her very first ocean voyage aboard Halbjorn's wooden long boat: far more comfortable, far safer no doubt and yet no matter how many years passed, the vividness of that memory never faded.

In so many ways that voyage across the bright blue waves, so filled with conflicted emotions and even a good deal of fear, had been the beginning of her life; the beginning of a journey that even now, six hundred and forty-three years later, continued.

She wondered again what New York would be like, and hoped that Eric would enjoy it even if he_ had_ only agreed to settle there because, stoic, hardened warrior that he was, he couldn't bear to disappoint two pairs of lovely, pleading blue eyes. He was probably right that they were indulging Pam overly much by acquiescing to her repeated requests to live there for a spell before moving on, but really, by the time Pam came to them Eric had already spent over half a millennium spoiling Sookie rotten, he was simply badly out of practice at saying no to the women in his life.

In truth though, they all three of them agreed that it was no longer safe to stay in Europe. The Humans were again making war, and this time it looked as though they might light the whole world on fire with the bright heat of their hatred for each other, instead of just one city in the middle of the frozen northern snow.

She tried not to think about those dark days as much as possible, but sometimes, when she was alone, and especially since the threat of war had reared its head once again across Europe, she found herself reliving those memories. The names of her friends, so many centuries dead and gone, whispered through her mind and she spared a moment to think of her love for each one of them, before opening her eyes once more and reclaiming her peace of mind by remembering everything that had happened since.

She remembered how her fear and grief had still swirled around her when Niall had brought them from the woods just outside of Upsala to his haven in Ireland, the home of her childhood. The weight of so much loss had nearly broken her that day as she thought of her friends who had perished only hours ago and of her King, who had taken his existence right in front of her and she wondered what would to happen next.

They did not have long to wait before the truth of the magnitude of what had happened became known. Upsala had not been an isolated incident, but a part of a larger coordinated attack. All over the world, the Christian faithful had turned on the creatures that their religion taught were the Devil's own children among them and many…so many had died.

Sa'ida had survived, but only because she had been traveling in the vast emptiness between Spain and England when it had happened, making her way slowly to Halbjorn's court for the sudden, unexpected meeting with him and Antonious. And it was to her that the remaining Vampires had looked for guidance, for hope and for the possibility of vengeance. Her command had been unmistakable though. The first order of this new reality was survival. She had charged the remaining Vampires to go underground and into hiding. They were to make themselves as shadows in the night, blending in with the Humans as much as possible and never speaking of what they were.

At first it had seemed a futile exercise, but eventually, as with all other things, the Humans forgot. The great rebirth of the enlightenment and the advent of rational thought and science proclaimed that Vampires, witches, Werewolves and Fairies were nothing more than superstitious fantasy. The creatures they had attempted to extinguish, believing them a dreaded threat, had become nothing more than myth and legend and, eventually, the Humans began again to turn on themselves, creating more needless conflicts over religion, race and creed as they convinced themselves that they were the highest beings on this earth.

She and Eric had stayed in Ireland for only a few weeks, Eric allowing her the chance to truly visit with Niall and her other family, but eventually Niall's duties as High King had called him back to Faery. He had left Ceiridwyn as regent of his earthly realm and she ruled in his name and watched over her precious son, the sole surviving Prince of his people and future King. But eventually Niall had made a decision that changed everything. Fearing that the Humans might turn on the Fairies next, and knowing that his people could not withstand another war, Niall had called them back to their realm. She still saw both her Grandfather and her cousins as often as possible, and she cherished those moments greatly, though sometimes they were few and far between.

When Niall left for Faery, she and Eric, now truly husband and wife, as they had been in their hearts already for so long, decided to make their first and oldest dream come true. They journeyed from Ireland to the coast of Norway, to Stavanger. It had become a great medieval city in the centuries since Eric's death and it looked nothing like it did when he was Human, but he still loved it and found solace in the earth of his homeland.

They settled in a small farmhouse in the woods not far from the city and lived a quiet life for over fifty years. It was one of the most beautiful times she could ever remember in her life. There was nothing but the two of them, living and loving each other, enjoying being completely free of any responsibilities save adoring one another.

There they had cemented their final bond, joining together in blood, under the stars and before the vastness of the northern ocean, as they had in love and in life force, becoming as nearly one as two beings could ever be. And it was this bond that she probed now, smiling as she felt the first stirrings of life returning to Eric's body as the sun touched the gentle waves.

They still traveled there often, and nowhere else on Earth felt so much like home, but eventually Eric felt it best that they move on. Staying hidden meant never really being able to stay in one place for very long. Indeed, they had never stayed in any other place as long as they'd stayed that first time in Stavanger. They moved frequently after that, every five to ten years.

It was on their third trip to England that they encountered Pam. They'd been strolling through the streets of London after having had dinner with Wallace at one of the louder pubs in the city when they'd come across a young woman being attacked by five men. She had snuck out in the middle of the night to see a lover and had been accosted by the men on her way home, her fine dress and proud bearing leading them to believe that she might have something worth stealing on her person.

She'd tried to fight back and had actually wounded one of the men, when another had pulled a gun on her and shot. They'd come upon the scene too late to stop her from being injured, but not for Eric to swiftly and completely end the lives of the men who'd done it.

He might not have cared for Humanity, but he was a warrior born and bred, and attacking someone weaker and unarmed was something that he never failed to find disgusting. When the men had been taken care of, he'd returned to find Sookie cradling the girl in her arms. He'd tried to pull her away or convince her to let him take the girl to the hospital, but they both knew that she wouldn't last that long. The pleading look in Sookie's eyes had been unmistakable. Something about this young woman called to her, reminded her of another head strong girl who'd fled her home for love, and Eric had been unable to refuse her.

When she'd arisen three nights later, it was clear that Pam had been born to live this un-life. She was keen, intelligent and ferocious, a predator through and through, and yet she and Sookie had almost instantly formed a true and strong friendship, as unlikely as it might have seemed. And though, at first, he'd only done it to please his wife, Eric had grown to love Pam immensely too.

Sookie laughed to herself, remembering, when she suddenly felt the air around her come alive and her heart swell as though it were about to burst with happiness. Two strong arms came around her, encircling her waist and pulling her back against a long, hard torso.

"You are wistful tonight." He whispered to her, his nose brushing aside the curls of her hair so that his lips could nip and suck at the ever beguiling curve of her neck. Sookie's arms came up as well, one on top of his hands at her waist and the other behind her, under the curtain of his own hair, to rest at the nape of his neck.

"Just thinking about…everything!" She said, laughing slightly, her whole world seeming even brighter now that he was again close.

"You aren't getting bored with it all are you?" He asked. His tone was light, teasing even but he could not hide the slight tinge of fret he felt from her. She knew that he sometimes worried that her Human body was simply not made to endure the churn of the centuries. Tightening her grip on him, she nuzzled back into him.

"With you here, how could I ever get bored? You make every night more wonderful than the last." She felt his relief flooding through them both.

"And you make every single night as beautiful as the first." He replied, laying more gentle kisses on her neck.

"Do you think you'll like New York?" She asked, looking out over the water, watching the moon take on the full glory of its brightness. She felt Eric shrug.

"I believe you will like it. I know Pam will. As long as you both are happy then so am I. It will be a new adventure for all of us. Pam will soon be ready to go off on her own and when she does we will go anywhere you like. Do you have any preferences?" He asked light heartedly.

"I think I'm tired of being cold." She laughed lightly. "Why don't we go somewhere warm for a change? New Orleans is supposed to be beautiful. What would you think about Louisiana?" She could almost hear him thinking hard.

"If that is what you wish." He answered, something in him liking the idea already. "Come, Pam is waiting for us, we need to go eat." He said, a little too gleefully as he turned her around and laid a soft but passionate kiss on the lips he still could never drink his fill of.

Sookie nodded, one corner of her mouth going up in a half smirk. Indeed it was time for them to eat. Or at least it was time for her to eat and for Eric to sit beside her with a plate filled with food and a glass brimming full of wine and create the illusion that he also was eating, while he actually spent the time giving her longing looks and sending lust through their bond, telling her how very much he would enjoy his own meal once she had finished hers.

"Promise me you'll go easy on our waiter tonight. If you play with them much more they'll refuse to serve us!" She said as they began to walk the deck towards the dining room. Eric only laughed. He knew that she was both amused and sometimes deeply irritated by the game he'd taken to playing.

He'd long gotten used to Human food and watching Humans eat, but he still found great fun in ordering the most unique and distasteful things on any menu and then sending it back, sometimes four or five times during a meal, with one imagined complaint after another. It passed the time and made it seem less noticeable that he simply wasn't eating, but it was also a great deal of fun to annoy the wait staff.

"I make no promises, lover. They are apparently serving tongue of calf tonight. I can smell it from out here." Sookie only snorted, hoping that she wouldn't die of either starvation or embarrassment before they had even begun their new American adventure.

.oO~*~Oo.


End file.
